It's All Been Done
by Kacfrog711
Summary: A young thief steals from the wrong person and ends up in a gypsy's tent. There he learns of his own dark fate and is offered the chance of a lifetime: the ability to remember his past lives...
1. Rome

Disclaimers:  
Inspired by Gundam Wing, the title's namesake, and the possibilities of Fate (none of which I own). I don't own anything I make allusions to either. No money is being made off this, and it's all in good fun. I mean no offence to Roma, (or anyone else for that matter) no matter what the narrator may say.  
  
A/N  
-Rated "R" for violence, gore, language, and intense angst. Not recommended for the weak of heart, mind, or stomach, and Duo fans should prepare for the worst. (It's not rated "R" for nothing, kiddies.)  
-I'm not using (most of) the time period's language or dialect. Believe me, if I could, I would (and then translate it), but I'm just not that skilled.  
-Everyone is approximately the age they are in the series at the beginning of the fic. However, Zechs, Noin, Trieze, and Une are all about 28, and Sally, poor, poor, Sally, I've aged to 40-something.  
-Relationships from the series (i.e. family members, marital status, love interests) may or may not hold. You'll see. Just don't hurt yourself trying to figure it out.  
-I apologize for making anyone out of character, but I have kept them as close to the original as I know how. Mainly, this goes for Hilde since I don't know her character that well. Sorry, Hilde fans. I did TRY to make her three dimensional, though.  
-Knowledge of the mangas (Eppy Zero, Ground Zero, Blind Target) is not necessary.  
-Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Actually, they've been changed for a different reason... Assume any "mispelled" names are NOT typos.  
-Refferences to Pluto are to Hades' (God of the Underworld in Greek/Roman mythology) Roman name, not the planet. Similarly, Jupiter = the King of Gods, and Mars = the God of War.  
  
  
Warnings -for this chapter-:   
Alternate Universe, evil cliffhangers, corny name changes, ranting about Fate, past lives, anachronisms, cursing, tiny tiny hint of shounen ai (Male x male love, but it's so small you probably won't be offended by it), death. Oh, the death. (Heed the proceeding caveat! This IS a death fic! Well, sort of...)  
  
  
Chapter 1: Rome  
  
"I met you before the fall of Rome,  
and I begged you to let me take you home...  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been before...."  
  
"It's All Been Done"  
- Bare Naked Ladies  
  
  
This week just plain sucked. It's like the whole week was cursed or something. And as the week went on, it just seemed to get worse. Something about that one day, though... I just knew it would be bad. Sunday: the last day of the week. It's supposed to be bad, sure, but what happened wasn't bad, it was just ridiculous!  
  
I stole some jewelry from this woman. I should've known that wasn't a good idea, just by the way she looked. I'm a thief, I should know this sort of stuff. Well, I wasn't thinking and I stole a few golden hoop bracelets anyway. I figured I could sell stuff like that anywhere. It was a good idea... at the time.  
  
It's still a blur about what actually happened, though you'd think that by now I'd know. Well, one minute I was running like heck out of that woman's grasp, and the next thing you know I ran into this tall guy (who was also dressed oddly). His clothes didn't match and they were far from the normal sheets for shirts I was used to seeing. Well, this blonde guy saw the bracelets in my hand and lifted me up by my poor tattered toga into the air until my feet were literally off the ground.  
  
His icy blue eyes stared into me and I knew I was as good as dead. No way I was getting out of this one. Good job, Dus, you just ended your career as a thief and landed a one-way ticket to Gods only know where: straight to Pluto's gates, judging by this guy's look. The woman I stole the bracelets from walked over and joined in the "Stare at the Thief" game. Man, they looked mad... They spoke to each other in some weird language, but it was all Greek to me. Actually, it wasn't, 'cause I'd heard Greek before, and that wasn't Greek.  
  
Just as I was sure the tall guy was about to strangle me, a girl about my age came over and started talking to them in the odd language. The girl had short dark hair (weird, she was a girl but had short hair, then again, who am I to talk what with my braid and all) and deep blue eyes. Life and energy just radiated off her as she spoke fluently in that quick language. She cast a glance over at me with a smirk and continued talking. By the way she played with her flowered skirts, toyed innocently with the many bracelets on one hand, and avoided the couple's glares, I'd bet anything she was their daughter. That and the little fact that she looked almost -exactly- like the woman I had robbed (except that the older woman had bright violet eyes instead of blue).  
  
The whole family was just... off somehow. They all had this air of danger and mystery that surrounded them... not to mention the strange clothes and language. Heck, even their skin was a few shades darker than mine (at least the two women's skin was). I wondered, as I hung there from the iron grip of the blonde man, just where they had come from that they looked and spoke so differently.  
  
After a few minutes of the girl's talking, the woman and man exchanged glances, then nodded. I was very relieved to feel the dirt beneath my bare feet once again as I was set, none too gently, back on the ground. Before I had the chance to run off, or even say anything, the young girl with the dark blue eyes grabbed my arm. I swear I heard her say, "Come with me." But it was so heavily accented that I could've been wrong. Either way, she pulled me along behind her towards wherever she was heading.   
  
Rather than risk the wrath of her parents, I followed the girl out past the boundaries of the city. There she pulled me into a tent and sat down on a few blankets. She gestured for me to sit as well, so I did. Like I said, better to listen to her than face the adults. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the girl just staring at me, before I spoke.  
  
"Uh, thanks, I guess." I said grinning at her. The girl nodded and smiled, just sitting there. It was weird. I was starting to think that she didn't speak my language at all... I looked around the small tent to find some answers, but found only the tent's walls and a few blankets and the like scattered along the grassy ground. Huh. "So... what's your name?"  
  
The girl smiled slightly mischievously before replying, "Hilda."  
  
"Hilda. Hi, nice to meet you. I'm..."  
  
"I know. Dus Maxillus, right?"  
  
I nodded, unable to verbally affirm her assumption because I was so shocked. ....that was just weird. It's not like I was famous or anything... How did she know my name? Who was this girl? So many questions rattled through my mind, I barely knew where to begin. Before I could get out the first words of my next question, though, she spoke again, nodding.  
  
"My parents. I told them that there was no point in killing you since they could just take my mother's jewelry back. I also said that you'd be good practice for me."  
  
I had to raise my eyebrow at that, slightly fearing what she would tell me, I asked, "practice?"  
  
She giggled and I swear she blushed, though I couldn't tell: her head was bent down slightly, glimmering blue eyes staring up at me as she responded. "We're Roma. My mother tells fortunes for food and goods, and I need to practice so that I can help provide for the family. I'm getting better, but... I still need more practice."  
  
"Whoa, wait... Fortune telling? You mean you guys are gypsies?"  
  
She rolled her eyes at that remark and rested her elbows on her knees. She sighed slightly, still smirking, answered, "you could say that, I guess," and rested her cheeks on her hands. Those glittering eyes never left me.  
  
"So, you want to tell my fortune?" I asked the obvious question hesitantly, though I don't know why. Something about her just made me nervous. "Is that why you brought me here?" She nodded. I laughed lightly and leaned back onto my arms. "Sure, go ahead."  
  
Still with the mischievous smile, she sat up and said, "I need something close to you, like a lock of your hair." I glared dangerously and grabbed my braid with both hands protectively. She sighed, "Okay, well, clothing would work, too." Her smirk deepened, "the hair or the toga, Dus?"   
  
I gaped at her through my slight blush. "Come on, there's gotta be a third choice!"  
  
The girl continued smirking without answering for a moment, really enjoying my uncomfortable state, before nodding. "Well, jewelry would work too, I guess."  
  
I sighed silently as the pressure was released. I had jewelry. Thank the Gods I had my necklace on. I lifted the silver chain off my head and untangled it from my braid. Just before handing it to the gypsy, though, I asked, "You're not gonna hurt it, are you?" Hilda thought about this for a second then shook her head, raven bangs fluttering across her shining eyes at the motion. I nodded and handed her the necklace.  
  
The girl took it and admired the pendant for a minute. She then held up the silver "x" and asked, "What's this stand for, Dus?"   
  
I shrugged. "I dunno, it's been in my family for ages. My mother said it had something to do with the Gods and protecting me or something." I grew a bit suspicious of the strange girl, "Why do you ask?"  
  
She shrugged, knowing smile once again on her lips, "No reason, really." Hilda placed my necklace on a blanket in front of her. She then took a thin flowered cloth from around her waist and put it next to my necklace. After some rummaging through a near by sack, she placed a small pot and a pitcher on the blanket as well. I was confused, but my eyes were glued to her nimble hands as they danced around the objects efficiently. She poured some water out of the pitcher and into the bowl, then offered it to me. "Take a sip." With no room to argue as the bowl was pressed to my lips, I obeyed, then continued watching in a trance-like state. The girl wrapped my chain in the cloth, then put them both into the water. Once they were soaked, she took a sip.  
  
Hilda took the soaked cloth out of the bowl and unraveled it. My necklace fell with a small splash back into the small pottery. The strange girl then put her cloth to the side and stared into the pot. I watched her for a minute. She just sat there staring. Wondering what could possibly be so interesting in there, I leaned over and joined her in looking into the water. I wasn't shocked by what I saw. My eyes met with the bottom of the pot, my necklace, water, the reflection of a pair of deep blue eyes, and the reflection my own blue-violet eyes. I sat back, sighing and waited for her to finish. Who knew fortune telling could be this boring? After a few more minutes, the girl frowned and looked up at me. I blinked in confusion. "What? Do I have something on my face? What did you see?" The girl dumped the water unceremoniously out into the ground next to her and handed the pendant and chain back to me.  
  
"Are you sure you want to know, Dus?"  
  
I laughed, "Yeah, why not? It's good to know the future, then you know what to expect." I winked at her, but the girl didn't share my cheer. Her face was serious and deep creases marred the tan skin of her forehead.  
  
"Are you really sure?"   
  
Not quite understanding why she had asked twice, I nodded again, "Yeah, of course." Hilda sighed lightly and looked back up to me.   
  
"You're going to die tonight."  
  
  
The words stopped my breath and I blinked in shock. I must've misheard her or something, that had to be it. "W- what?" She nodded again solemnly. I shook my head in response, "Not -tonight- tonight, right?"  
  
Her shoulders dropped as if to say, 'you're kidding.' "What other 'tonight' is there?"  
  
I kept shaking my head, "No, you must've read the water wrong or something. You're still practicing right? Here." I pushed my chain back in her general direction. "Try again. Do it right this time."  
  
She glared, "I -did- do it right. I may be young, I may be inexperienced, but I know what I saw, Dus." Hilda sighed and pushed my hand back. "I'm sorry."  
  
I sat in silence. No way. I couldn't die. Impossible. I was only fifteen. It's not possible to die at fifteen. I had to be at -least- thirty-five to die. At -least-. But... but what if she was right? Then I was really going to.. die tonight? My voice was soft as I questioned, "How?"  
  
"Hm?" She looked up from where her eyes had rested on her hands.  
  
"How am I supposed to die?"  
  
She corrected forcefully, "You're -going- to die in the Coliseum."  
  
I laughed in relief. "Now I know you're kidding! Only gladiators die there." I sighed deeply. "You almost killed me right here! Don't scare me like that, Hild! I actually believed you for a second..."  
  
Her demeanor remained serious, her eyes remained hard. "I'm not kidding. Fate has determined that you will die tonight, in the Coliseum, by a warrior's hand." She paused, her strong eyes lowering with regret. "I'm sorry, Dus. I don't decide these things."  
  
My mind ran through the possibilities. "No. Uh uh. No way. It's not going to happen. I'm not gonna let it happen. I'll.. I'll just avoid the Coliseum! Yeah!"  
  
She shook her dark head, "Dus..."   
  
Ignoring her, I continued "I'll leave Rome right now and get as far away as possible before nightfall. Then, I can come back, like, tomorrow or sometime after, and pretend I never even met you!"  
  
"Dus, you can't..."  
  
"No! I'm -not- going to die tonight!" I shouted at her. Bad manners, I know: shouting at a girl, a stranger no less. I didn't exactly -care- at the time, though. It didn't really matter anyway, because Hilda wasn't even moved by my screaming.   
  
"You can't run from Fate, Dus."  
  
"Oh yeah?" I stood, prepared to leave. "Watch me."   
  
As I was about to storm out victorious and all manly, she called out, "Wait!" and I was forced to stop. I turned and waited to hear what she said. "I see you intend on fighting your destiny. I can't stop you, no matter how much of an idiot you are." Before I could get in a snide remark, she continued, "However," She held up a finger, "I don't want you making the same mistake repeatedly." The girl sighed lightly. Knowing what her pause meant, I reluctantly sat back down. My nerves were on end, though. I could die at any minute, right? I had to get out before... before what? I just had this gnawing feeling in my gut that I had to leave this tent - and fast.  
  
"Do you believe in past lives?" I gave her a, 'what do you think?' look. "Well, you should. Fate can't be changed. This life, or the next, Dus, you're still going to die on this day." Again, before I could argue (I was getting pretty pissed at her continuously cutting me off and talking like she knew -for a fact- what my future was), she continued, "Everything you've done in your life has been done before and will be done again. The only way I can make you understand this, though, is to let you see it for yourself."  
  
"Really?" I didn't quite understand, but it sounded like she was letting me re-live my life over again? Something like that. Whatever it was, it sounded interesting.   
  
Hilda nodded, "In the future, I can make you aware of your past lives. You can't change Fate, and this will prove it."  
  
My heart was beating faster. This was so twisted... I don't know why I was even believing it.. but I did. "Yes. Prove it. Try. And I'll prove to you that I'm not going to die yet."  
  
She smiled sadly and nodded. Touching the pendant around my neck, Hilda muttered some foreign words and closed her cyan eyes. When she opened them again, she said, "From this life onto the next, you'll remember this day. I hope you realize the consequences."  
  
Damn. There always had to be something, didn't there? All my life as a thief and I -still- didn't know that you can't get anything without a price. "Consequences?" I stuttered out.  
  
The flaps to the tent opened and revealed her father. Hilda nodded to him and the man grabbed me by my collar. "Hilda! What're you doing?! Stop him!"   
  
She shrugged, her eyes glistening with knowledge and mirth. "I'll see you next time, Dus."  
  
"Hilda!" I was dragged out of the tent by my heels and back into the harsh midday light. As he dragged me away, I tried to talk my way out of it, but the blonde didn't respond to me. How could she let her father just take me like that? She -wanted- me to die, didn't she? I didn't know where I was being dragged to, but I had this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.. and with good reason, too.  
  
When I was finally stopped and hauled up to my feet, I came face to face with a tall woman. She had rich brown eyes and hair to match; said hair was tied up tightly in a bun on the top of her head. The lady was looking down at me with all the ferocity of a tiger. This was so not good... Then I noticed: she was decked out in full armor.  
  
A woman in armor was hard to come by, which just showed how fierce this lady had to be. It also meant she was some sort of warrior. I swallowed deeply. Very not good... The tall blonde man exchanged a glance with her. As crystal blue met the depths of hazel, he spoke one word, "thief."  
  
Oh, great. The one word of my language he probably knows and it has to be my occupation. How lucky can a guy get?! Man, the Gods must hate me... or, uh, Fate does. I was then brutally knocked once to the ground. While my face was in the dust, my arms were forced and tied behind my back. I was actually starting to believe what Hilda had said about my dying... The lady picked me up and held a spear point against my back. Muttering curses, I was forcefully directed closer and closer to the palace of the newly crowned Emperor. Things just kept getting better and better.  
  
Today was definitely not my day.  
  
I was directed into the large white building where I was once again pushed to the floor (but marble tastes a lot better than dirt, trust me). Lucky me, there was a rather large audience to watch me fall on my face. Through one eye I scanned the room. I noticed that some sort of play was being put on, a few of the oddly dressed actors had stopped to stare at me. Nobles and scholars were all around watching the play, men and women alike. In the center of the room, I just barely saw two blondes: one tall woman with twin curls lacing the sides of her face, and one boy about my age with a gold leaf crown resting in his golden hair. I had never seen the Emperor or his mother (the late Empress) this close before, but I didn't exactly have time to dwell on it.  
  
The woman in armor spoke a minute later, "I'm sorry to interrupt your entertainment, Highness, but this boy is a known thief and needs to be dealt with." I sighed, my hot breath leaving a ghost of mist on the cool marble which quickly vanished. Oh yes, I was -so- dead. Thieves aren't normally brought into the palace; they're just thrown into prison. They must've known how long I'd... "This one boy has been plaguing the city for years, but I've finally caught him. I await your permission to deal with him properly."  
  
"-You- caught me?!" My voice sounded oddly rough in comparison to the elegant speaking manor of those around me. "You did not! I was caught by that.. uh!" I was kicked in the stomach. Okay, that hurts enough when a normal foot hits you forcefully in the gut, but when a foot in a metal case hits you... ow. Really ow. I was dizzy with pain for the next few minutes, so I missed exactly what was said. I picked out a few bits and pieces.  
  
"I think that's a little extreme...."  
  
"...this dirt isn't good enough to line your prison cells."  
  
"If I may suggest..."  
  
I know glances were exchanged and more was said, but like I mentioned, I was too busy being curled up in pain to see and hear them. More conversation went on. All I heard was the sharp contrast between the woman's deep alto voice, the young Emperor's higher tenor, and another man's smooth voice which fell somewhere in between. Next thing I knew, I was picked up again, dragged down a lot of dark passages below the palace, and tossed into a prison cell. Apparently, I -was- good enough for the prison. Lucky me. I sat down there in the dark, occupying myself by listening to dripping water of some unknown source. That got annoyingly repetitive after only a few minutes, so I took to thinking instead.  
  
Mainly about Hilda's words and Fate. So... I was going to die in the Coliseum, she said? That'd be better than down in this cell at least. Dying honorable's an okay way to die.. if you have to die at all, I mean. Sure, the Gods weren't all that nice to me when they handed out lives: life as a thief isn't the greatest. Still, any life is better than none. Understandably, I didn't want to die - at least not yet. Wait a few years, then ask me. Maybe though... Maybe Fate wasn't real. Maybe my future could change, and I could still be saved. Yeah, that's it. The future isn't written in stone; I could still change it, I knew I could.  
  
I had to.  
  
I wasn't in that cell for long, actually. At least, I don't think I was. When you sit in the dark just thinking, the passage of time is kind of hard to estimate. Anyhow, I was soon pulled out of my cell, hands still tied tightly behind my back. I was led - guess where?  
  
The Coliseum.  
  
Yup, someone up there hates me. Which God had I angered? Probably all of them, knowing me. That takes talent, you know - there are a lot of gods and goddesses. To anger them all, whew. That's quite the feat. Go me.  
  
I still wouldn't accept it, though. Who cares if Hilda was right about the Coliseum? No way I was dying tonight. I was too young, too unprepared. Give me a few years to prepare. Unfortunately, Fate wasn't about to change her schedule because of me.  
  
I was led into the huge Coliseum and left there - hands still tied, stomach still bruised and throbbing. I looked around and noticed just how huge this place was. It was mind bending. I felt so small in comparison to the open space around me and the gigantic blue sky which was growing darker by the second. Hundreds of thousands of eyes were all watching me, some cheering, some hissing, some just watching. I just wanted to crawl up and die... er, that was just a badly worded expression. I just wanted them all to stop looking at me. I -really- didn't want to die.  
  
The young Emperor came out of a center side of the arena, followed shortly by his mother, a tall man in armor, and two blonde girls about my age, all of whom were dressed in finery for the "event." The Emperor made an announcement to the crowd, his thin voice echoing in a resounding boom across the Coliseum. I couldn't quite make out the words because my eyes had found the opposite doors which drew all of my attention to them. Two large hinged doors stood shortly from me in all their intimidating glory. I didn't know who or what would come out of those doors: a lion? two lions? tigers? a gladiator? a lot of gladiators? something worse? The horrific possibilities were endless. The only solace I had was that Hilda said I would die "by a warrior's hand." ...but she didn't say if I would be attacked by one or more "warriors." I shuddered at the thought. I didn't want to die!  
  
The doors slid open, my heart stopped until a thin figure emerged from the darkness. Loud cheers began as a man in layers of shimmering silver armor stepped out into the setting sun. The light played on his shimmering silver breastplate throwing rainbows of color on the ground before him. The man walked slowly toward me, two swords in hand; each step he took was followed shortly by a clank or chime of his metal armor. Breastplate, gloves, large boots, back plate, helmet, and two swords. I'm willing to admit - I was scared shitless. Who wouldn't be? This guy looked straight from Mt. Olympus, a regular Jupiter himself, and he was holding two (not one, but two) swords like twin lightning bolts: one in each gloved hand. Meanwhile, my hands were tied behind my back and I had no weapons. None. I didn't want to die!!  
  
Oh yeah, Mars hates me. It has to be the God of War. Who else would do this to me? Have me die like this?  
  
There was no way I could fight without a weapon and with my hands tied. No armor, no weapon, no chance. Not to mention that I was a thief, not a gladiator. So I stood, tried to put on a brave face, lifted my chin, and waited for this guy to slit my throat. When he finally reached me, I saw his helmet move up and down as he surveyed my appearance. 'Yeah, I look pathetic, I get it, just kill me!' But my throat wasn't working, so I kept my morbid thoughts to myself. The gladiator looked around at the crowds, as if asking a silent question. They threw him verbal affirmations in response. They wanted blood, but they wanted a fight, too. Apparently, the warrior saw this. He dropped the two swords on the ground with two small clangs, stirring the dusty earth up in small clouds. I looked at him curiously. He then took off both gloves and dropped them as well. The man continued stripping himself of his armor until only his boots and helmet remained. He then took off his helmet and dropped it to the ground as well.  
  
Damn, the guy was beautiful. He had the most gorgeous blue eyes I'd ever seen... they were intense and flooded with emotions that I couldn't quite recognize or pin down. I can't even describe his eyes, like twin lakes bathed in moonlight or some other poetic shit. Yeah, I'm about to die and I'm admiring my future killer's eyes. Got to hand it to me, I have no priorities. I couldn't help it! The guy was hot beyond words! Give me a break!  
  
So this beautiful warrior, who's got to be only a year or two older than me if that, picked up the two swords again. He then circled behind me; that was the worst thing he could've done. I couldn't see him so I didn't know when the blow would hit. I just bent my head forward and prayed that they guy would be kind and kill me quickly.   
  
He didn't. He did something totally unexpected: he cut the rope tying my hands together. I felt the release and immediately stretched my arms and wrists. I turned and looked at him shocked, searching for an answer. Those beautiful eyes so full of hidden emotion were emotionless to me as he handed me one of the two swords I was holding. Oh, right, the whole fight-to-the-death thing. And here I thought he was just being sweet.  
  
I swallowed deeply and took the sword. I'm not a fighter. Sure, I can take care of myself, but I wasn't like this guy. He held his own sword up toward me as if it weighed nothing. Meanwhile, I struggled to hold my sword up at all. When he was sure I was ready, the guy just charged me and took a swipe! I held up my sword, but the reverberations as metal hit metal made my hands shake and tingle. A few more of the same hits and my hands were numb completely. Foolishly, I tried to take a swing at the guy. He easily sidestepped and landed a huge swipe across my back. The stinging made my back arch in pain and I remember seeing a few droplets of blood hit the ground at my feet. The crowd cheered. -Cheered-, damn them.   
  
I took one hand off my sword to clutch at my injured back. The gladiator took this opportunity and landed another harsh uppercut to my side. I shouted in pain and groaned as my knees gave out from under me. I couldn't hold my sword with one hand and still use it, while the other hand was holding my gaping wound (which was currently dousing the dust in think oozing drops of blood between my fingers). Even worse, my mind was going blank except for the awesome pain which was driving right into my spine. Still, I kept one hand on my useless sword as another skillful slash landed across my chest, forcing me to fall on my back. Utterly helpless, and shaking with pain, I lay there waiting to die. My vision became distant as the red mist began closing in on my sight. I stared straight up into the evening stars and saw the harsh, uncaring face of the gladiator as he rose his bloodied sword for a final time. I whispered, "I can't die..." but no sound escaped my lips; instead, a short scratchy wheeze caused a few droplets of blood to trail down my chin.   
  
The last thing I saw were the boy's piercing blue eyes as his sword pierced into my chest with the grating sound of metal against bone. And for a second, I could hear the crowds cheer as my vision blacked out and my steaming blood fled from my grasp and into the dust. As the cheering died down (or when my hearing was lost), I heard the mumbled words so close to my ear that I swear Hilda was lying next to me.  
  
"I'll see you next time, Dus." 


	2. England

Warnings:   
AU, evil cliffhangers, corny name changes, ranting about Fate, past lives, anachronisms, cursing, minor shounen-ai/het, death, over-used text, odd coincidences, bitchy Fate.  
  
  
Chapter 2: England  
  
"You were wrong, I was right.  
You said, 'Good bye' I said, 'Good night' ...  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
This week just plain sucked. It's like the whole week was cursed or something. Weird... it really felt cursed. This whole week I had an ominous feeling hanging over my head. I didn't realize what it was though, until that day. That day, Sunday: I just knew it would be bad. Really, I knew! Like waking up from a dream, my life flashed before my eyes! I was in some ancient city then with some weird clothes, but it was definitely me and my life! I was even a thief then, too! Sure, that was Rome and this was England, and that was then and this was now, but it was the same. The same exact life.  
  
I don't know what happened. I saw the woman with the hair so dark it looked navy blue in the sunlight. Her eyes were like twin fires of violet, and her gold jewelry glistened like the morning sun. But I knew her. Hilda's mother. Uh uh. No way. I wasn't going through -that- again. Seemingly fresh pain ran through my back at the thought. I would just avoid the woman and I'd be okay. I did just that, I totally ignored her, but in my trying to avoid her, I was paying so much attention to thinking that I ran right into her. The woman fell on top of me and when I helped her up, her twin golden bracelets had found their way to my wrists.   
  
I gasped in horror and quickly tried to hand them back to the woman, but they were stuck on my wrists. I pulled and tugged, nearly crying with frustration, but to no avail. The woman called me a thief and started attacking me! My street instincts kicked in and I found myself running.... right into the oddly dressed blonde. His clothes didn't match and they were far from the normal tunics I was used to seeing, just like before. Of course, this blonde guy saw the bracelets on my hand and lifted me up by my poor tattered shirt into the air until my feet were literally off the ground.  
  
You know the saying "deja vu?" This wasn't that. This was worse. This was more like, "deja what the hell is going on that I know what's going to happen before it does."  
  
His icy blue eyes stared into me and I knew I was as good as dead. Not by this man, oh no, but by the blue-eyed "warrior" later tonight. No. There had to be a way I could still stop this chain of events from happening! There had to be...  
  
Just at the appropriate moment, a girl about my age came over and started talking to them in that oddly familiar yet foreign language. The girl had short dark hair... wait, screw my description of her - she -was- Hilda. She cast a glance over at me with that annoyingly familiar smirk and continued talking. I swear she knew I knew and did it just to tease me... her eyes practically sang, "I told you so." I couldn't believe it. It wasn't possible. This wasn't happening. Wake up, Deven, you're dreaming again. You couldn't possibly know that the girl's going to take you to a tent and tell your fortune. It's not possible. This was a dream. It all had to be a dream...  
  
After a few minutes of the girl's talking, the woman and man exchanged glances, then nodded. Dearest Lord in Heaven, it was all so familiar. I wasn't relieved at all to feel the dirt beneath my booted feet as I was set back on the ground. In fact, I was dreading it. It was all the same. Everything. Before I had the chance to run off, completely nuts and screaming, to go jump in the nearest moat or find the nearest fire-breathing dragon to wake me up, or even do anything, Hilda grabbed my arm. I tried to wrench away, knowing where she would take me, but the girl's grip was as tight as a vice as she dragged me off. I know I heard her say, "Told ya, Deven." Against my own futile efforts, she pulled me along behind her towards wherever she was heading (which I knew to be some place very bad...).  
  
Hilda stopped pulling me when we were out past the boundaries of the city. There she pushed me into that same damn tent and sat down on the same damn blankets. She gestured for me to sit as well. I didn't. I just stood there glaring at her, demanding answers through looks alone. That clever grin never left her face. "You didn't believe me, did you Deven Makeswell? I told you."  
  
"Shut the hell up! What did you do to me? How do I know what's going to happen? Why do I keep thinking everything's Roman? What did you do, Gypsy?!"  
  
She leaned back with one hand on her skirted hip. "Well that's rude. You didn't even ask me my name this time."  
  
I was so frustrated I couldn't breathe. I just shouted back, "This time?! How is there a this time?! How is there a last time?! What am I seeing?"  
  
She sighed lightly. "You're seeing Fate, Deven, or rather, you're seeing one of your past lives."  
  
"Past lives?" The concept was foreign to me. What's all this Fate stuff? Wait.. we've had this conversation....  
  
"You can call me Lady Hildessa."  
  
"Lady Hildessa? Lady my ass! Your name's Hilda and you're a gypsy! And you... you cursed me!" I leaned over and grabbed her blouse, wrenching it until her nose and mine nearly touched. "What the hell did you do to me?!"  
  
She ripped herself from my grasp. In the same swift movement, she put a hand on my shoulder and forced my to sit. "Some gentleman -you- are." She dusted off her skirts and looked back to me. "It was a curse, but not in the use of the word you're thinking of." She paused and when I didn't answer, she began, "Those were my parents you met."  
  
"I know." I interrupted. She ignored me every time I butted in and continued her own train of conversation like a well-known play.  
  
"I told them that there was no point in killing you since they could just take my mother's jewelry back."  
  
"I know, we've..."  
  
"I also said that you'd be good practice for me."  
  
"Practice. Wait... that's it, isn't it? You're not like a professional at this stuff. You screwed up somehow last time and that's why I know all this. I don't want to know anymore. Just, just fix it."  
  
She laughed lightly, her head was bent down slightly in such a familiar manor it mad me sick. Glimmering blue eyes staring up at me as she responded. "There's nothing to fix, Deven. And I didn't do anything wrong." She leaned forward slightly and spoke in a hushed voice. "This is a -gift- Deven. You don't understand now, but after a few more lives go by, you will."  
  
I stuttered at the statement, "Li... lives?! I'm -not- dying like that again!" My eyes narrowed at the remembrance, "I... I can't! Do you have -any idea- how much that hurt? I can't take that again, I just can't." I shook my head over and over again, desperately trying to forget the pain that I knew would come later. No. I would stop it. I had to.  
  
"I do know about pain...."Her eyes suddenly became darker as if she was remembering something, too. Then she nodded and replied softly, "You're not the only human that dies at the end of their life, Deven."  
  
I blinked at the statement. "You... you died, too? In Rome?"   
  
Hilda nodded and took a deep breath sitting up taller, "But that's all in the past now, isn't it?" She smirked. Oh. How clever of her. Lord almighty, this girl was making jokes about dying. Rather than continue with the inquisition of such a... morbid matter, I moved on.  
  
"So, you want to tell my fortune?" I asked the question and immediately couldn't believe it left my mouth. Had... had I actually said that? Oh, no... no more deja vu... make it stop! I couldn't help it, I had to finish the statement. I felt like some sort of puppet with Fate pulling the strings. "Is that why you brought me here?" She nodded. I laughed lightly and leaned back onto my arms. "I have no control. You might as well."  
  
Still with the mischievous smile, she sat up and said, "I need something close to you... the hair or the tunic, Deven?"   
  
I gave her my best sarcastic glance. "Ya know, that joke's not nearly as funny the second time around."  
  
The girl shrugged without answering for a moment, before finishing. "Well, how about a necklace?"  
  
I glared. "Like you have to ask." She looked at me innocently. A sigh escaped my lips as I lifted the silver chain off my head and detangled it from my braid. I closed my eyes in defeat and handed the gypsy the necklace.  
  
The girl took it and admired the pendant for a minute. She then held up the silver "x" and asked, "What's this stand for, Dus?"   
  
"What did you call me?"  
  
She answered me with an innocent face, "Dev. Short for Deven." But I knew what I had heard.... "Well?" She asked still holding my chain in her hand.  
  
"What does it look like? It's a cross, what do you think? It's been in my family for ages. My mother gave it to me so that the Lord would protect me. Why do you..."  
  
She shrugged, knowing smile once again on her lips, "No reason," She exchanged a knowing glance with me, "Really." Hilda placed my necklace on a blanket in front of her. She then took a thin flowered cloth from... eh, you know the drill. "Take a sip." As I did, a brief thought passed through my mind. Now, with the knowledge of -exactly- what would happen, I could stop it! I knew every move that gladiator would make, I knew I would be tossed into that cell, I knew I would be kicked in the gut for talking... I knew everything. And knowledge would be my advantage over Fate.  
  
I looked up from my dazed state of planning to the sound of a splash as my necklace fell back into the small pottery. Hilda sat there staring over the bowl. I interrupted, "Why are you doing this? You know what you're going to see." But she didn't respond.  
  
After a few more minutes, the girl looked up at me. I sighed. "Well? Go ahead and 'break the news' to me." The girl dumped the water unceremoniously out into the ground next to her and handed the cross and chain back to me.  
  
"Are you sure you want to know, Deven?"  
  
I laughed, "Of course I don't, but go ahead and tell me. You've already done all the damage you can."  
  
Without a hint of spite or regret or any other normal human emotions, the girl asked, "Are you really sure?"   
  
I tossed her a sarcastic glance which seemed to answer her question.  
  
"You're going to die tonight."  
  
"... ya know, that, too, has less affect the second time around."  
  
She looked at me in a confused way. "Why do you take this so lightly? Death is death, no matter how many times you do it." Her voice softened, "Believe me."  
  
I grew quiet and asked, "How did you die?"  
  
She didn't respond for a moment. Her eyes were lost and clouded as if she were really somewhere else. After a moment, she looked up, "I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"How?"  
  
"Hm? How what?" I felt like she dodging my question... she probably was.  
  
"How am I supposed to die?" That's not what I meant to say. I meant to say, 'how are -you- supposed to die.' But Fate kicked in and messed with my head again, damn It.  
  
She corrected forcefully, "You're -going- to die in the Tournament."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "Tournament? I thought it was the Coliseum?"  
  
She smirked at the outrageous statement. "Silly thief, there are no coliseums in medieval England."   
  
"Yeah, but..."   
  
"Fate has determined that you will die tonight, in the Tournament, by a warrior's hand." She paused, her strong eyes lowering with regret. "I'm sorry, Deven. I don't decide these things."  
  
My mind ran through the possibilities. "I can still win, though. I can change Fate. I know what's going to happen, it'll be easy this time!"  
  
She shook her dark head, "This isn't a game, Dev..."   
  
Ignoring her, I continued "Hilda, you're a gypsy, you have a dagger, right?"  
  
Hilda glared. "That was a cruel assumption." She sighed, "But yes, I do."  
  
"Yes!" I couldn't help myself from shouting. "I'm not going to die tonight!" Hilda wasn't even moved by my screaming, she glared at me from the corner of her eyes suspiciously.   
  
"What are you planning?"  
  
I grinned. "Nothing." I replied innocently, "Now, can I borrow your dagger? I'll give it back... tomorrow."  
  
Ignoring my intended humor, she replied sharply, "You can't run from Fate, Dev."  
  
"Oh yeah?" I grabbed the dagger from her and slipped it into one of my boots. I stood and waited for her father to come in, the huge grin still on my lips, "Watch me."   
  
"I see you intend on fighting your destiny. I can't stop you, no matter how much of an idiot you are."  
  
I grinned and took the backhanded remark as a compliment, bowing to her, "Why thank you, kind Lady Hildessa."   
  
"However," She held up a finger, "After this time, you won't be making the same mistake repeatedly." Remembering my cue, I reluctantly sat back down. My nerves were on end, though. I couldn't wait to put my plan into action. Take -that-, Fate!  
  
"Do you believe in past lives?"  
  
"Huh. I do now, I guess."  
  
"This life, or the next, Deven, you're still going to die on this day. That's not a threat, it's a promise."   
  
"You sound like you -want- me to die!"   
  
"I don't..." She sighed and then hardened her eyes on me, "but -I- know when I'm beat. Everything you've done in your life has been done before and will be done again. The only way I can make you understand this, though, is to let you try it for yourself."  
  
I smirked. "And try I will."  
  
Hilda nodded, "You can't change Fate, and this will prove it."  
  
My heart was beating faster with adrenaline as I nodded as well. "And I'll prove to -you- that I'm not going to die yet."  
  
She smirked with a touch of evil in those beautiful dark eyes, "Now where have I heard -that- before?"  
  
I frowned realizing I was quoting myself from hours before I died last time. Wow that sounded weird... "died last time" Ugh, gives me the shivers. Touching the cross around my neck, Hilda muttered, "I hope you realize the consequences by now."  
  
I curled my lip at the remembrance, "You could've warned me about this before you cursed me." She shrugged in response and we both turned simultaneously to greet her father. The flaps to the tent opened and revealed the tall blonde. Hilda nodded to him and the man grabbed me by my collar. I was dragged off without a word.   
  
"I'll see you next time, Dev."  
  
"Hilda..." I growled lightly as I was dragged out of the tent by my heels and back into the harsh midday light. As he dragged me away, my mind wandered back to my boot where the thin blade of my new dagger was slicing into the sensitive skin of my ankle. Not twice. Not a chance. I was going to beat the system if it killed me! (But then again, if it killed me, I didn't beat it did I? Paradoxes.. yuck.)  
  
When I was finally stopped and hauled up to my feet, I came face to face with a tall woman in full armor. I smiled at her politely and bowed. The woman eyed me for a moment before looking at the blonde man holding the back of my brown shirt. The tall blonde man exchanged a glance with her. As crystal blue met the depths of hazel, he spoke one word, "thief." I dropped to the ground before I could be brutally knocked down again. While my face was in the dust, my arms were forced and tied behind my back once more. It's not as bad the second time around, actually. The lady picked me up and held a sword point against my back. Wordlessly but with a knowing smirk, I was forcefully directed closer and closer to the palace of the newly crowned King.  
  
Today was my day. I was in control of everything, of Fate Herself. Now it was a matter of decision... when to use the knife? On the way there, in the palace, in the dungeon, or as a sneak attack on the gladiator? The memories of the warrior surged in my mind and I knew there was no deciding. I had to see those eyes again. I could wait.  
  
I was directed into the large stone castle where I once again pushed myself to the floor rather than be pushed. No one even seemed to notice my odd behavior. The same as before, there was a rather large audience to watch me fall on my face. I began picking out a few familiar faces... two of the entertainers stood out, both in jester's motley and with strange chestnut hairstyles. The boy stood out because he never stared at me like all the others did: his eyes were locked on the King. Hm... And the girl holding knives had the same mysterious eyes as Hilda had. Behind the King were the same two young blonde girls dressed in finery. They were real ladies of the court, I could tell. But one hung back behind the other, and the one in front... her blue eyes looked so lonely... Also behind the King was the tall man with brown hair so light it looked reddish. In the very center of the room, sitting in twin thrones were the royalty: the Queen mother with a small gold crown resting on her blonde head, and the young king about my age with a golden crown resting in his silky blonde hair.  
  
I thought my head would explode from taking in too much information too quickly, but lucky for me, it didn't.  
  
The woman in knight's armor spoke a minute later, "I'm sorry to interrupt your entertainment, Your Majesty, but this boy is a known thief and needs to be dealt with." I sighed, my hot breath leaving a ghost of mist on the cool stone below my cheek. It was all the same. Ah well, I'd deal with it later tonight... "This one boy has been plaguing the town for years, but I've finally caught him. I await your permission to deal with him properly." Just as I was about to make my rude comments, I bit my tongue - literally. It hurt, too. But it was worth it. Without being kicked, I was able to observe everything clearly this time. Yes! Go, Deven! Plus, a little pain is better than a lot any day.  
  
"You mean execute him? I think that's a little extreme, don't you? He's just a thief. And he could be a lot worse, Lady. Besides, he's only a child."  
  
I heard her mutter something about "children on the throne," but I missed exactly what she said. It sounded like a good insult... Yes! I could nail her for treason! Well, if I had heard her completely... and could prove it.... Eh, well I could always hear it next time, right? No! There would be no next time. This was the last time. I wasn't going to die this time, next time, or anytime. "Your Highness, this dirt isn't good enough to line your prison cells, allow me to eliminate him." She unsheathed her sword and held it threateningly to my neck. Amazing the things you don't notice when your doubled in pain; I had no doubt that she had done exactly the same last time.  
  
The king stood, making his power known, "You will not go against my orders, Lady. I think you have some personal agenda here and I will not allow it." Damn, I missed a lot of good stuff when I got kicked, didn't I? Yeah! You go, Your Highness! Kick that Lady's...  
  
"If I may suggest, Lord Quatre..." The man with the reddish hair spoke in such a soothing manor that although it was soft, his voice demanded attention from everyone in the room... well, except that one jester anyway who didn't seem to be moved by anything.... "the Grand Tournament takes place tonight. We've been looking for a suitable challenger for the our victorious knight ever since those gypsies escaped. Perhaps the thief would do."  
  
My head shot up. Gypsies? No way! He couldn't mean...  
  
The king looked at me sympathetically for a moment, "I don't know... do you even think he knows how to fight?"  
  
The man stepped closer to his King and continued in an even softer voice, "He will be killed, but he will have a chance to save himself. Everyone will be sated and our current peace will remain... for the time being. Surely one boy is worth the peace of an entire kingdom, even if the peace does not last." He stood and replied in a louder voice, "Besides, the people want to see fresh meat at the tournaments."  
  
Meat. That's all I was. I wasn't even human. I swear I saw an apology in "Lord Quatre"'s eyes as he nodded silently. Next thing I knew, I was picked up again, dragged down a lot of dark passages below the palace, and tossed into a dank dungeon cell. I sat down there in the dark, once again occupying myself by listening to dripping water of some unknown source. Weird, even the dripping of the water was the same through my lives. That got annoyingly repetitive and just plain confusing to think about after only a few minutes, so I took to thinking about other things instead.  
  
My thoughts didn't make sense and they were confusing even to -me- so I won't bother with the tiny details. Let's just say that Fate was the topic of all of my thoughts (for obvious reasons). The future isn't written in stone; I could still change it, I knew I could.  
  
I had to.  
  
I wasn't in that cell for long, actually. The same amount of time had passed when I was pulled out of my cell, hands still tied tightly behind my back. I was led - guess where?  
  
The Coliseum? Nope.  
  
The Tournament? Sadly, yes.  
  
Yup, someone up there hates me. Fate, God, some wacky angels, all of the above. I must've pissed something off pretty bad.  
  
No. No way I was dying tonight. I was prepared this time. Unfortunately, Fate wasn't about to change her schedule just because I followed the Boy Scout motto.  
  
I was led into a large arena and left there - hands still tied, dagger safe in my boot. I looked around and noticed just how huge this place was. It wasn't nearly as impressive as the Coliseum, but it sure was big. I felt so small in comparison to the open space around me and the gigantic blue sky which was growing darker by the second. Hundreds of thousands of eyes were all watching me, some cheering, some hissing, some just watching. The same people, the same eyes. Let them look! Let them all be witnesses as I told Fate to kiss my little thief ass!  
  
The King came out of a center side of the arena, followed shortly by his mother, the soft-spoken man, and the two blonde ladies, all of whom were dressed in finery for the "event." The King made an announcement to the crowd, his thin voice just barely reaching my ears across the mountains of people cheering. "The challenger - a young thief. His opponent and our current champion, the Perfect Knight. Let the Tournament begin!" At his signal, two large hinged doors swung open with a clang and a knight on horseback galloped into the arena.  
  
My heart stopped as the knight's lance came inches from my face. A JOUST?! I had no lance, no sword, hell, I didn't even have a horse!!! And they expected me to joust? Aw, crap! Loud cheers began as a man in layers of shimmering silver armor sat still on his white stead, waiting for some signal or cue or something. The light played on his shimmering silver breastplate throwing rainbows of color onto me and into my eyes as I stood helplessly before him. Dagger or no, I couldn't whip a guy on a horse (not to mention my hands being tied). I found myself actually -relying- on Fate, praying that the guy would be as fair to me this time as he was the last.   
  
The man hopped nimbly off his horse and walked slowly toward me; each step he took was followed shortly by a clank or chime of his metal armor. When he finally reached me, I saw his helmet move up and down as he surveyed my appearance. I couldn't help but smirk. 'Yup, now, take off the armor, show me those beautiful eyes, and toss me a sword.' But I didn't feel like being killed prematurely, so I kept my confident thoughts to myself. The knight looked around at the crowds and to the King, as if asking a silent question. He then dropped both gloves onto the ground with two small clangs, stirring the dusty earth up in small clouds. I looked at him, desperately trying to hide my satisfied smile. The man continued stripping himself of his armor until only his boots and helmet remained. He then took off his helmet and dropped it to the ground as well.  
  
Damn, even though he killed me, the guy was still beautiful. I couldn't help it, I smiled at the sight.  
  
This beautiful warrior caught my smirk and suddenly looked off guard. He blinked confusedly at me for a minute, but didn't say anything. Shaking his momentary stupor, the man once again circled behind me; I didn't mind that I couldn't see him, I knew what he would do. And he did: he cut the rope tying my hands together. I felt the release and immediately stretched my arms and wrists. I turned and looked at him, smile still on my lips. Those beautiful eyes so full of hidden emotion looked utterly confused at my attitude. His brow furrowed and I heard him speak, "What are you smiling about?"  
  
Okay, not the most romantic first words, but first words nonetheless! I smiled even brighter and gathered my courage. 'Damn, you're hot!' was my intended sentence, but it came out more along the lines of, "Thanks, those things were -killing- my wrists!"  
  
He simply glared at me, snorted lightly, and trotted back over to his horse. There he grabbed another sword and tossed it to me. Oh, right, the whole fight-to-the-death thing. And here we had just started such a pleasant conversation!  
  
I swallowed deeply and just barely caught the sword he threw to me. Okay, I could do this. I didn't have to kill him, I just had to get out alive. I could handle that. No problem. When he was sure I was ready, the guy just charged me and took a swipe. Expecting this first move, I dodged and struck out at his back. He quickly turned and blocked my attack. Damn. Okay, this wasn't part of the plan... I held up my sword, but the reverberations as metal hit metal made my hands shake and tingle. Wisely, I waited for him to attack me. He did, and I just barely fought back. As we continued a similar fighting pattern, I began to sweat. This wasn't working... my grip on the sword was loosening... I couldn't defend forever, I had to attack! He easily sidestepped my weak attempt and landed a huge swipe across my back. The stinging made my back arch in pain and I remember seeing a few droplets of blood hit the ground at my feet. Lord help me, it was happening again. The crowd cheered.  
  
Despite my injury, I kept both hands on my sword. After a few more defensive moves, I attacked, leaving myself open. The knight took this opportunity and landed another harsh uppercut to my side. I shouted in pain and groaned as my knees gave out from under me. I couldn't hold my sword with one hand and use the other to hold my gaping wound (which was currently dousing the dust in think oozing drops of blood between my fingers), so I dropped the sword. Even as my mind was going blank except for the awesome pain which was driving right into my spine, I reached for my dagger. It was expertly knocked away from my hand with a quick skillful slash, followed shortly by another which landed across my chest, forcing me to fall on my back. Utterly helpless again, and shaking with pain, I lay there waiting to die, thinking. What had gone wrong? What had happened to my plan? I lasted longer, but I still ended up in the dirt bleeding and in pain! My vision became distant as the red mist began closing in on my sight. I stared straight up into the evening stars and saw the harsh, uncaring face of the knight as he rose his bloodied sword for a final time. I smiled up at him causing him to hesitate. Knowing that I was about to die anyway, I forced out the thin words (of all the things to say), "You have beautiful eyes...." as the sound was released, a few droplets of blood fell down my lips to trail down my chin.   
  
The knight hesitated, sword raised, and just watched me lay there. He actually almost looked sorry or touched or just confused or something... The last thing I saw were the questioning sapphire eyes as his sword pierced into my chest with the grating sound of metal against bone. I had failed. Fate got the better of me again. The pain that had become all too familiar rushed into me, flooding my senses and causing my back to arch against the sword inbedded into it. For a breathless second, I could hear the crowds cheer as my vision once again blacked out and my precious blood fled for the second time from my grasp into the dust. When my hearing was nearly lost, and the knight above me had blurred into the night sky above him, I heard the same mumbled words and felt the tickle of hot breath against my ear.  
  
"I'll see you next time, Dev." 


	3. Paris

Warnings:   
Since you've read the two previous chapters, I assume you know what you're in for and are prepared for it... and yet you're still reading this fic. You brave people, you.  
  
  
Chapter 3: Paris  
  
"Will I cry, will I smile  
As you run down the isle? ...  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
This week just plain sucked. It's like the whole week was cursed or something. Because it was. I walked around the city's dusty streets that Sunday morning with my head hanging low. I had woken up and remembered: I had... I had failed. I tried, I lost, I died. The realization hit me: there was nothing I could do. I was really going to die. Over and over and over and... That guy was so much better at fighting than I was! It would take (one of) my whole life to get as good as him, and I only knew enough to train the day I would face him! A day's worth of sword fighting wouldn't help; it wouldn't even make a difference. I couldn't win. Check, and Mate. Maybe the gypsy girl would be kind once I admitted that she was right and lift this curse.   
  
It's one thing to know when, where, how, and by whose hand you're going to die, it's another to know that you can't possibly stop it from happening.  
  
I saw Hilda's mother. Strange clothing (always different, but never blending in with the surroundings), shimmering eyes, short dark hair: there was no denying her identity. I marched glumly over to her and grabbed her wrist. The woman turned to me with a shocked expression which lightened slightly when she saw me. I sighed and looked up at her, "Look, Madame, I don't want to, really I don't, but I know I'm going to end up robbing you of your bracelets somehow. I really, really don't want to - I'm honestly sorry that I did it the first time (BOY am I sorry... you don't even KNOW how sorry...) and even though you don't remember a first time, I did, and I'm sorry and I..." I sighed. "Just kill me." She continued to stare down at me with a puzzled expression. "Really, just kill me quickly, no pain or anything. Don't ask, just get it over with." I bowed my head, both to show her to just break my neck or something quick, and to hide the hot tears that were sliding rapidly down my reddened cheeks.  
  
The woman, not comprehending a word of my speech, lifted my chin with her hand and looked into my tear-filled eyes. She made a motherly clucking sound and wiped away my tears with an end of her skirt. I shook my head out of her grasp. "I don't think you get it. Please...." I looked down to the ground once more "...don't make me ask again..." The woman said something strange in a soothing voice, her tongue playing with the "s" and the "r" sounds. She then smiled at me and handed me two twin gold bracelets from her wrist.  
  
I looked up at her in horror. She had a genuine expression of kindness in her eyes and I could almost hear her saying, "Take these and buy food and clothing with them." The tears fled unchecked down my chin now as I quickly tried to hand them back to the woman. She insisted, pushing the bracelets onto my wrists. Her good dead would get me killed! Painfully! I pulled and tugged, crying with frustration at my golden shackles, but to no avail. The woman pushed me in one direction and began walking away in the other. I went chasing after her yelling, begging, and crying all at once. Once I caught up to her, I latched onto her skirt and spoke hurriedly, "You don't know what you're doing to me! These things will kill me! Please, just take them back! I don't want them! They'll kill me! Take them back, please! Take them back!"   
  
At that moment, an oddly dressed blonde happened to see the two of us. Seeing some wretched looking kid grabbing his wife's skirt and wearing her bracelets must've looked like a bad situation to him. He wrenched me off of the woman's skirts by the back collar of my poor tattered shirt and lifted me into the air until my feet were literally off the ground. I was sobbing and trying to kick him, shouting and still trying to get the bracelets off my wrists. I was desperate, but can you blame me? I didn't want to die! ... Again!  
  
I had never even noticed before, but those bracelets were always on my wrists, right up to the end. Even in England as the dagger was sliced from my hand by that knight, they clanked together with the musical chimes of Notre Dame's bells herself. Even my corpse would have those bracelets, rusting with the years, because they stubbornly refused to release my hand... Oh, Holy Mother, my corpse?! Oh, Maria... no...  
  
The tall man's normally icy blue eyes looked down at me with some sort of compassion as he spoke in a rushed tongue to his wife. She replied quickly back to him, her tan forehead creased with worry. If I didn't know that she was a mother, I would've guessed. After a minute of their conversation, I fell limp in the man's grasp, frustrated and worn out both physically and mentally.  
  
At the appointed time, Hilda ran over and started talking to them in that oddly familiar, yet foreign, language. I saw her concerned navy eyes flash at me, smile gone from her expression and replaced by a look of worry. Tears had long stopped falling from my eyes: I no longer had the strength even for that. With breaths that shook my ribcage and my face tingling as if on fire, my heavy eyelids began to close. "Deux? Answer me! Wake up, Deux!" But I couldn't respond to the muttered phrases. I felt myself dropping swiftly to the hard dirt ground as everything went black.  
  
  
Dead! Wait... no. I wasn't dead... I couldn't be... death was so much more painful...  
  
  
I felt a warm rag against my forehead as a blurry light faded into my eyes. As I opened my deep violet eyes wider, the pain in my forehead throbbed in protest. I groaned and shivered as the warm compress was taken from my head and replaced with a sopping cold one.  
  
Hilda stooped over me in a tent just out past the boundaries of the city. Her face was expressionless as she pressed her flowered cloth to my head. Small droplets of cool water ran down my temples as she pressed too hard. "Deux... I'm sorry."  
  
I groaned and tried to sit up. As Hilda tried to push me back, my body tensed and my eyes grew again with slight fear. Seeing this, the girl allowed me to get up and took a few steps back from me. There she sat down again, Her eyes met mine as I questioned, "Sorry for what? You're not the one that kills me..."  
  
The girl frowned a bit before replying, "I'm sorry... about the spell. I didn't think it would affect you like this. I wasn't expecting... I mean, I should've, but I..." She lowered her head. After a minute, she looked up and her eyes once again met mine with clear sincerity. "I didn't mean to hurt you."  
  
I sat up, rage and sadness burning in my chest as I shouted, "Hurt me? You didn't -hurt- me, you killed me!"  
  
She shouted back, eyes wide in a mix of shock and sadness, "I did not! I would never!"  
  
I lay back with a sigh. "It doesn't matter. You, the "warrior," Fate: it's all the same, just different names for my death."  
  
The girl paused before speaking flatly, "My name is Hidelle."  
  
I stared up at the top of the tent, sarcastic smirk on my lips, "Hello. My name is Deux Macils and I have a problem." My smile dropped with my voice as I continued, "I'm going to die today."  
  
"Hidelle" wrung the cloth in her hand in a worried fashion. "My parents were worried about you. My mother said you wouldn't take the charity she offered. She said you looked like hell."  
  
I smirked lightly, "Tell her 'thanks.'"   
  
Still frowning, she continued, "They were worried that you were sick, so I told them that I could practice a spell or two to make you healthy again. They were hesitant, but agreed."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
One dark eyebrow rose at my question. "Did I what?"  
  
"Practice on me?"   
  
She shook her head. "I didn't think you'd appreciate it.... especially since you tell me I still need more practice."  
  
We sat in a mutual silence for a minute. "Is it hard to get curses right?"  
  
Tiredly, she rested her elbows on her knees. She sighed slightly, a small smile on her lips that looked more like it was meant to cheer me up then any real emotion of her own. Hilda answered, "you could say that, I guess," and rested her cheeks on her hands. Those glittering eyes never left me.  
  
I sighed, "So, is it time for you to tell my fortune?" I paused before finishing. "That's the real reason you brought me here."  
  
Confused expression, she sat up and said, "No. It's not. I brought you here to heal you." She waited for me to say something. When I merely looked at her, she continued, "Don't you see, Deux? You changed it."  
  
I sat up in shock. Wait... I had changed something? Sure, the final result was the same, but I was here for a different reason. "I don't understand. I thought you said I couldn't change Fate!"  
  
She nodded, "You didn't change you destiny yet, you merely manipulated planned events." Seeing me visibly dishearten, she added, "however... if you changed the right event..." The breath caught in my throat. No. I... I didn't still have a chance, did I? I didn't want to get my hopes up, but... but if I could some how -not- end up in the Tournament in the first place....   
  
Hilda snapped her fingers an inch from my face causing me to come back from my thoughts. "Still, you need to know where. Give me your chain, Dev."  
  
As I lifted the silver chain off my head and untangled it from my braid, I questioned, "Why do our names change through each life?"  
  
The girl took it and admired the pendant for a minute answering, "The same person can't exist twice in history, Deux, even if they are in different times. If names didn't change through lives, the same person would exist perpetually... almost like an immortal." She looked up at me and smiled, "Why do you think people look like so much like their ancestors?" As I was mulling over this new bit of trivia I was never supposed to know, she performed the whole fortune-telling bit. I looked up just as she spoke, "Take a sip." and placed the cup to my lips. The girl wrapped my chain in the cloth, then put them both into the water. Once they were soaked, she took a sip as well.  
  
She performed the whole ceremony without flaw. Once she was nearly finished, I asked, "Well?" Hilda dumped the water unceremoniously out into the ground next to her and handed the pendant and chain back to me.  
  
"Are you sure you want to know, Deux?"  
  
I looked at her with curiosity, "You know my answer, why do you keep asking?"  
  
She shrugged. "The same reason you always get my mother's bracelets on your wrist, I suppose. So, are you really sure?" Not quite understanding the odd ways of Fate, I nodded silently. "You know, it doesn't get any easier to tell you."  
  
I nodded again, "It doesn't get any easier to hear it."  
  
She looked straight at me. "You're going to die tonight."  
  
The words stopped my breath, even though I knew they were coming - mainly because I knew they were truth - the truth - the absolute, no otherwise. Quietly, I asked, "Where?"  
  
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Trying again, she spoke, "I know it sounds odd, but you're going to die in the Cathedral."  
  
My eyes went wide. "The church? You're kidding!"  
  
Her demeanor remained serious, her eyes looked slightly confused as well. "I'm not kidding. Fate has determined that you will die tonight, in the Cathedral, by a warrior's hand." She paused, her strong eyes lowering with regret. "I'm sorry, Deux. I can't explain everything."  
  
My mind ran through the possibilities. "Why would I die in a church? How? Surely I wouldn't be killed by that knight in there..."  
  
She interrupted my rambling, "Deux..."   
  
Ignoring her, I continued "But he has to if that's how I die and I die in.... wait, the only cathedral near by is..."  
  
The gypsy nodded.  
  
"Notre Dame?! I can't die there!" I shouted. As usual, Hilda wasn't even moved by my screaming.   
  
"You can't run from Fate, Deux."  
  
"I don't plan on running..." I leaned forward. "I plan on winning."   
  
"Wait. This -isn't- a game to win. Think about it: about last time, about dying." I shuddered and looked away. "You see what happens when you fight your destiny. You can't stop it, no matter how much you delay it." She paused for emphasis, "I don't want you making the same mistake repeatedly."  
  
I looked up at her, challenging, "But... Fate can be changed. You saw! This life, I may still... die... on this day, but it won't be the same. Every life it's a little different." I continued, before she could argue, "Yes, it's all been done and will be done again, but what if I can do it differently? Just a little, tiny, minor change here or there? Eventually, I could win!"  
  
Hilda shook her head, "There is no 'eventually.' I made you aware of your past lives, true, but you said it yourself - I'm still practicing."  
  
My heart beat a little faster with dread. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I still have limited skills and strength to my curses..." She looked at me straight on, eyes blazing, "This gift, spell, curse, whatever you call it, it won't last forever."  
  
I stuttered, "W.. what? How long?" Odd: minutes before I was wishing I couldn't see my past lives at all, now I never wanted to stop seeing them.  
  
"I don't know... five, six lives, tops." Touching the pendant around my neck, Hilda continued, "That's part of the consequences."  
  
"Five?! But, I've been through two already!"  
  
She nodded. "But you still have three or four left. That's three of four more than anyone normally gets." The flaps to the tent opened and revealed her father. Hilda nodded to him and the man grabbed my arm and began pulling me out. "Wait! Can't you give me anymore? I need more time!"  
  
She shrugged, "I can try. Regardless, I'll see you next time, Deux."  
  
"Try?!" I was dragged out of the tent by my arm and back into the harsh midday light. As Hilda's father pulled me away, I wondered where he could possibly be taking me. The man didn't think of me as a thief, did he? Surely his wife had explained that she had -given- me the bracelets... I didn't know where or to whom I was being dragged to, but I had this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach that I'd be meeting the armored woman... and with good reason, too. I figured that the only way I could possibly know where he was guiding me would be to ask. So I did. "Where are we going?"  
  
The man shot me a glance before continuing on his path. At first I figured that he didn't speak my language, but then, to my shock, he answered in a soft baritone, "Shelter. You can't stay with us." I blinked back my surprise. He spoke clearly and concisely, without even an accent! Come to think of it, he didn't look like the women... maybe he wasn't a gypsy at all? Before I could question it, he stopped short and I ran into him. The man didn't move as my force hit him, but stood his ground. Under his breath, I heard the word, "Une."  
  
A woman in high leather boots and light armor approached. "Zeches." She nodded to him, eyes narrowed. "And where are you heading off to in such a rush, Gypsy?" The man glared but didn't answer. They stood silently for a minute, me just watching (since my arm was still caught in Zeches' fierce grip). After a short period of silence which seemed to stretch for hours, Une noticed me. She spoke to Zeches, still eyeing me, "And who is this? Picked up a new runaway?" She reached out for me, but I backed up instinctively. She raised a thin brown eyebrow, "He doesn't look like a gypsy. Is he yours?"  
  
As crystal blue met and challenged the depths of hazel, Zeches spoke, "He's not. If you'll excuse us, Madame." He then pushed past her, me still in tow.   
  
The woman reached out like a snake and grabbed my other arm. "If he's not yours, Monsieur Zeches," she paused in mocking emphasis, "then I'll take care of him." Une attempted to pull me with her, but I was pulled back by Zeches.  
  
"He's not your concern." He spoke, wrenching me back towards him.  
  
I felt like a freaking tug-of-war rope! They continued pulling me back and forth, me helpless and looking completely lost, when Une pulled out the trump card: or rather, she pulled out her sword. "He's a thief and must see the Queen." Zeches remained stone-faced as he reluctantly let go of my arm under the threat of the blade. The woman smirked slightly and began pushing me off, with her sword to my back. As she walked, she tossed a glance over her shoulder and hissed, "I'll be back for you later, Gypsy." And I was pushed towards the palace.  
  
Today was definitely a different day. Yes, I still ended up with Une dragging me to see the King, but the whole conversation with "Zeches" was completely new! It was strange to comprehend: it was the same day, but completely different; I had altered Fate, but not changed it. Even so, I had gathered even more information, the main piece being: I could alter Fate!  
  
I was directed into one section of a large stone building where I was pushed to the floor for the first time that day. The same audience was there to watch me fall on my face. I began picking out a few familiar faces... the entertainers were the same, expressions and all (with only slight differences in their apparel), behind the Queen was one of the two blonde girls in a large, fancy gown, also behind the Queen was the tall man with reddish hair, and in the very center of the room, sitting in twin thrones were the royalty: but that's where it was odd: there was no king. Only the recently crowned Queen and her older mother sat there.  
  
It was odd having two queens, but the Queen Mother had insisted that her daughter rule. Nobody understood why. As for me, I wondered what had happened to the young king from my other lives...  
  
The woman in light armor spoke a minute later, "I'm sorry to interrupt your entertainment, Queen Paixbateau, but this boy is a known thief and needs to be dealt with." I waited to hear her out, knowing for a fact that she had no idea if I was a thief or not. "This boy has been plaguing Paris for years with his existence, but while in search of the gypsy runaways I finally caught him. I await your permission to deal with him personally."   
  
"I'm not a 'known thief.' " I muttered, just barely audible. I don't know if anyone heard my little half-truth, but I wasn't kicked, so I assume not.  
  
The young queen gasped in shock, "You mean you want to behead him?! I think that's much too extreme, don't you? He's just a thief, Madame! Besides, he's only a child."  
  
I heard her mutter, "Children on the throne should not call others children."   
  
Prepared for this, I started laughing uproariously. All the eyes in the room turned from their queen to the hysterical thief on the floor (namely, me). I clutched my sides and wiped false tears from my eyes, laughing and mumbling, "Oh, oh, That's... that was good, Ma, Madame Une... "And continued laughing.   
  
After a minute of my hysteria, the younger queen spoke, "I don't understand. What are you laughing about, boy?"  
  
Still giggling under my breath, I sat up to my knees and smiled at Her Highness. "Oh, nothing really, I just heard the funniest joke from this soldier right here." My head jerked up to gesture at Une. She looked down on me with a cross of horror and hate, and I was loving every second of it.  
  
The blonde women behind the throne raised a double eyebrow and asked, "Oh really? Do tell, I love a good jest." The younger queen nodded in silent agreement.   
  
I smirked. This was working too well. Damn, Deux, you're a good actor. I would've patted myself on the back, but I thought that would've given me away, "Oh, I don't know if I should... Telling jokes in front of Her Majesty? If Mademoiselle Une here hadn't told it, I would've thought it was treasonous!"  
  
I caught Une visibly stiffen, as did the red haired man behind the queen. The blonde behind the throne turned to her queen, an almost devious smile on her lips, "Will you let him tell it, Madamoiselle Relena?"   
  
Relena eyed Une in all seriousness, head cocked in curiosity. "Yes, I would -love- to here what Madame Une jokes about."  
  
Une's eyes went a bit wider as she found her voice, "Your Majesty, I don't think..."  
  
I interrupted, "No! Don't be modest! It was -great-! Here, let me try and tell it like you did." I cleared my throat and stood up. Once standing, I cleared my throat again and put on a mad expression, lips tight, eyes blazing, eyebrows knit. I pulled as much of my braid as I could to the top of my head and feebly attempted to put it in a bun. As a final insult, I crossed my arms and leaned back slightly, looking just away from Queen Relena. A few chuckles resounded at my Une impression, but they quickly silenced as I spoke the next words a-la-Une, "Children on the throne should not call -others- -children.-"   
  
The room was silent and all eyes dropped from me to Lady Une. She gasped, trying to find words, "Y--, Your Highness, I, I said no such thing! I don't know where this little brat heard something so, so..." Her sentence died off, "....absolutely..." as her eyes locked with the cool blue eyes of the Queen. "...appalling."  
  
The young Monarch spoke, "Guards, arrest Madame Une for high treason." At the orders, two guards came and grabbed the woman.   
  
They hauled her off in the direction of the dungeons below and I smiled, "I'll see you next time, Mademoiselle Une!" I spoke, waving at her cheerfully.  
  
"Queen Relena..." The man with the reddish hair spoke in such a soothing manor that he instantly gained the girl's attention. "The thief could be lying. It is not wise to allow him to roam about free until we know what is truth and what is not. After all, Madame Une did say he was with the gypsies."  
  
The queen looked at me for a moment, "I don't know. I do not think he was lying, Monsieur Treize. He does not look the type..."  
  
The man stepped closer to his queen and continued in an even softer voice, "Perhaps, but are you willing to risk that chance?"  
  
Great. I was going to end up in the prisons anyway. I sighed and lowered my head, waiting for the guards to grab me as well. I was shocked when they didn't. Queen Relena spoke to me instead, "You're free to go. Thank you for your service, what's your name?"  
  
I raised my head and smiled brightly. It was too good to be true! I wasn't really getting released... was I? "Deux Macils, Majesty."  
  
"You're free to go, Deux. Sorry for the inconvenience." She smiled sideways, almost smirking, at Treize and nodded silently. Next thing I knew, I was escorted out of the palace. I couldn't believe it! I wasn't in the dungeon waiting to die! I was outside! I drank in the fresh air greedily and laughed at the thought. I had won! Really won! I ran in my happiness to nowhere in particular, simply around in circles, out of pure relief. I sighed contentedly and sat down where I stood. I was alive. And it never felt so good. The future wasn't written in stone; I had changed it, I knew I had.  
  
I had to of.  
  
I sat, fully content for a few minutes, just watching the goings on about me. Nothing was really unusual save for a small redheaded child who looked lost. I called out to the little girl, asking what her name was. She said, "You can call me Maria," but then quickly vanished before I could speak further with her. A few minutes later, I noticed something else even more odd: a hooded figure was speaking with a man in armor. I was curious when I saw this, so I stood and peered over at the unusual group. The tall hooded figure appeared to be talking to the man in armor. All of a sudden, they turned and the hooded figure pointed at me.  
  
I felt my heart stop. The armored figure nodded and began walking toward me. Oh, Maria, no! No! It wasn't possible! I had won! I had won! This wasn't supposed to be happening! Yet the hooded figure watched as the man in armor grew closer to me. I backed up until my back was pressed against the slimy stone wall of the palace. And I saw them: two shimmering swords, one on the warrior's back, one at his hip, as he stalked ever closer to me. A cry of agony escaped from the back of my throat. I was against a stone wall with death walking toward me. I did the only thing I could do:   
  
I ran.   
  
Dodging around hundreds of buildings, pushing my way through crowds of people, I ran faster and harder, my eyes blurred with tears, my heart pounding in every drop of blood in my body. I ran on, but the armored man followed. This wasn't supposed to happen! I wasn't supposed to die this time! I won! But the thoughts did not stop my running, nor did they halt the warrior gaining on my heels. As I ran, a dim idea drove me to the destination: an idea in the very back of my mind, below my fear and rational thought alike. This one idea pumped my legs and led my senses: guess where?  
  
The Coliseum? Nope.  
  
The Tournament? No.  
  
The Cathedral? To Notre Dame Herself.  
  
I ran up the numerous thick stone steps and pushed and heaved the wooden doors until they creaked open just enough for me to slip through. I fell to my back as I slipped through the door and turning, I kicked the door shut with a resounding boom. I then crawled backwards, dampened eyes still on the door, until my back hit a pew. There I stood up, shaking and clutching the wooden row for support. With every breath of my heaving lungs I whispered reassurances to myself, "Cathedral. Sanctuary. Notre Dame. Maria. Protection. Sanctuary. Can't here. Church. Holy. Sanctuary."  
  
I stood muttering in the quiet for some time when a thin hand fell on my shoulder. I gasped and shouted causing a similar hand to fall across my mouth as I turned in shock. In front of me stood a boy about my age in a long white robe. He had dark hair and dark eyes, but his hands were emitting comforting pressure on me. He whispered, "Do not shout." Once I nodded, he released me and spoke, "No need to worry. You're safe under Notre Dame's embrace." I nodded slightly once more, but my heart still pounded in my chest. I may have -felt- safe there, but who really knew? After all, I was safe not ten minutes ago, too.  
  
In my fear, the curse was all but forgotten. All that occupied my mind was the blue-eyed warrior who could come through those doors any minute. I whirled around and stared at the doors. Nothing but the glossy burnt wood met my accusing glare. I barely even noticed as the boy behind me grabbed a lantern off the floor and began walking away. He whispered as he went, "No matter what you've done, He will forgive you if you allow Him to."  
  
I was left in a deadly darkness which was broken only by the light of a few near by candles. My heart and head were throbbing in an equal rhythm. Calming myself slightly, I looked around and noticed just how huge this place was. It was dark, but twin gigantic rose-like stained glass windows allowed the setting sun's light to filter out a bit of darkness. Hundreds of statues lined the walls and the light cast eerie shadows across their motionless faces. The effect was surreal, celestial, and mind bending. I felt so small in comparison to the holy building encompassing me. Hundreds of thousands of eyes were all watching me from their stone faces; I couldn't read their expressions or their thoughts, I could only imagine: were they accusing me, pitying me, comforting me, or just watching? I felt as if I could - and should - confess to the stone everything. As I opened my mouth to speak with the omnipotent yet lifeless stone, I was interrupted as a new figure walked in from the depths of the church.  
  
Another young boy in overly-large white robes came out of a center isle of the cathedral, completely alone. The light from his lantern and thin wisps of smoke from the incense he was holding swirled up and passed in front of his shimmering aqua eyes. His expression was kind, yet set firm, and his hair fell across his ears surrounding his head like a golden halo. I'd never seen an angel before, but if I ever did, I'd bet he would look just like this boy. The boy did nothing but stand there watching me, waiting for something. I merely returned his look, but at a thick rumbling sound, he looked up toward the doorway behind me. As his chin rose, I recognized for sure who this was: it was the young king from my past lives! So why was he here? And who was the girl on the throne? Why -was- she on the throne? My questions ceased as I realized why the blonde was here... He was always there right before... He was the one to announce the entrance of...  
  
I didn't want to die.  
  
I couldn't force myself to turn as I knew the doors behind me were opened and then closed again. My heart stopped and I gazed up at the angel, silently begging for help. His eyes were still on the doors behind me. My own eyes shimmering with tears about to be shed, I turned slowly and met with a thin figure emerging from the darkness. The eyes of the statues, of the boy, and of another witness watched us in silence as the man walked towards me. The light from the stained glass windows played on his shimmering silver breastplate throwing rainbows of color on the ground before him lighting his way as he walked. Each step he took was followed shortly by a clank or chime of his metal armor; the sound like that of bells suited the holy environment perfectly.   
  
I didn't want to die.  
  
There was no way I could fight. It didn't matter that I didn't have armor, a weapon, or a chance; I wouldn't fight because I couldn't. Not here. Not under the eyes of the Father, the Son and Maria. I only hoped the warrior would see this as well. Of course I thought that he might actually spare me! Where better to ask for a miracle than in the Cathedral? I stood watching as without expression as I could be, however, I could not halt two steady streams of tears flowing down each side of my face. When the armored man finally reached me, he asked softly, "Your name?"  
  
I swallowed the tears in my voice and replied in an equally soft whisper, "Deux Macils."   
  
Apparently, this was the answer the warrior wanted. He spoke again, "Come with me." And began walking out the way he had come. I held my ground. He turned and stared at me through the mask of his helmet. I waited, glued to the spot. "Come." He repeated, but like a disobedient dog, I remained. He growled slightly. "Fine. Your way." The warrior then threw off his armored helmet causing a loud clang to echo through the room, breaking the thick and all-encompassing silence. He unsheathed both his swords in a fluid motion and attempted to hand one to me.  
  
His solid sapphire eyes, similar to the sunlit sky itself, were only intensified in the candle light and he stared at me, telling me with a deadly glare to take the weapon. I shook my head and exhaled deeply. "I can't."  
  
He narrowed his eyes. "Why not."  
  
My eyes motioned around the room, passing a blue-eyed shadow, resting on the silent witness with an angelic air, passing more shadows and then returning to the warrior. "Sanctity of the church, of course."  
  
He looked around at his surrounding as if he had just noticed him. He then sheathed the sword intended for me, but still held his own. "You leave and I'll kill you after we fight. Stay and I kill you here without one."  
  
I swallowed deeply, but I was resolved. I looked at him with disbelief, "You'd kill me in a church?" He nodded. I frowned deeply. "Then God have mercy on you."  
  
Our conversation was interrupted by a new sound, "You will not fight inside this holy place." The angel spoke. His voice was gentle, but demanding: perfect for his role. "You cannot. I will not allow it."  
  
"I won't fight him," the warrior paused, sheathing the sword intended for me, and leered at me. "I'll kill him."  
  
I grimaced. Inhaling sharply, I dropped to my knees in defeat. Smiling thinly, I muttered, "At least this place is cleaner than the Tournament."  
  
Ignoring my odd comment, the soldier stood over me and raised his sword. With a last bit of desperation I looked up, my eyes meeting his as I asked in a voice barely audible, "Just... do it fast." I pleaded softly, voice barely able to escape my lips. I choked out the words, knowing that saying them would be accepting my death. I didn't want to accept it, but I couldn't go through it a third time... "without pain." Shaking with the knowledge and fearful anticipation, I sat there waiting to die. I stared straight up into the masterfully carved ceiling of the cathedral and saw the grim warrior nod as he once again rose his glistening sword for a final time. I whispered, "thanks for that..." but no sound escaped my lips.  
  
Above me, I saw the apology in the armored boy's blue eyes as his sword pierced into my chest with the grating sound of metal against bone; although the sound was by no means loud, it echoed in the large church, increasing in volume as it bounced through impossibly detailed stone arches, and raked through my ears as it met them. And for a second, I could hear the statues shrieking and crying at the defamation of their holy ground. I could see out of the corner of my eye a heavenly glow as the angel flew with shimmering white wings down the scarlet isle and toward my fallen body. As my vision blacked out further, I could just barely see my vibrant violet blood floating out from my veins and swimming across the stone floors, seeping into the cracks and coating the armored feet next to where I lay. A child's soft footsteps, pat, pat, pat, walked steadily away from me and dissolved into nothingness as a loud humming took the place of my hearing. As the sharp hum died out, and as the warrior above me blended into the soft darkness, I smiled softly through my tears. He didn't lie. I don't understand how, but for once there was no pain. I heard the same mumbled words whispered in my ear softly as everything went white.  
  
"Regardless, I'll see you next time, Deux." 


	4. The West

A/N  
-One line of the song instead of two because this and chapter 5 are connected.  
  
Warnings:   
AU, evil cliffhangers, corny name changes, ranting about Fate, past lives, anachronisms, cursing, curses, yaoi, het, odd coincidences, stereotypical Fate, loopholes, assumptions, dramatization, angst, oh, and did I mention just plain depressing?  
  
  
Chapter 4: The West  
  
"I knew you before the West was won...  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
This week just plain sucked. It's like the whole week was cursed or something. But something strange happened on this particular week... I saw my past lives. Three of them, actually. That's not the weird part, though. The weird part was that I saw them on Saturday instead of Sunday...  
  
One day before I was "supposed" to die.  
  
I got to see my lives a day early! This was the chance I had been waiting for! But... why? What did that mean? I clearly had not beaten Fate (in fact, I shuddered at the thought of my... death), but maybe I had changed it, thus causing this memory to come a day soon? Could I then change Fate even more today, Saturday? But if I did change my destiny, did I change it for the better... or worse? Was I now going to die a day early? Then again, maybe I hadn't changed Fate at all... maybe there was just something about the curse that Hilda hadn't told me about?  
  
I took my chances on the last option.  
  
Whatever had happened, I now had an extra day -an entire twenty-four hours- to gather my resources and prepare. Either I'd die a day early while planning for tomorrow, or I'd be prepared for tomorrow and beat Fate Herself. Whichever it was, I wasn't going to run away: something told me that the blue-eyed knight would hunt me down even if I tried; running wouldn't work since you can't hide from Fate. I had to use one of my other skills... I would have to be shifty, devious, mysterious, conniving, and all around cunning: in other words, I had to be a thief. I grinned at the opportunity to do what I do best. I didn't know how it had happened, but I had a whole day to plan, and I was damn well going to make full use of it.  
  
Immediately, I decided to stop my future death. I had to find someone and make sure I changed something... but who? And what? The obvious place to start would be the guy that killed me. Come to think of it... I never found out his name. Anyway, if I could convince the blue-eyed fighter to, I don't know, become a pacifist or leave the country or something, then I'd be safe. Problem was, I had no clue where to find him. He could be anywhere in the town! Maybe I could stop the chain of events some other way... after all, you only have to sever one link to snap a chain. But which link could I locate?  
  
Next up on the nasty list of who led to my death(s) would be the royal family. ...There was no royalty here in the open plains, though. Okay, that idea was out.   
  
Then there was Une. Where would she be, though... I had a guess, but nothing definite. Keep trying...  
  
Zeches: Hilda's father sent me to Une. Well, where he was, Hilda was. But where to find them...  
  
I decided the best option would be to start at the source: Hilda. Somehow she was the root of everything, I knew it (besides the fact that there was nowhere else -to- start). Sure, she wasn't Fate, but she was the one who gave me this chance. She had to know something that I didn't... but what? Only one way to find out. How to find her, though? On Sunday it would've been easy: I knew every little detail about Sunday, (at least I thought so after remembering the same day in three lives). But I couldn't know where she was on Saturday. She could be anywhere! Not only that, but she'd have a different name in this time (although I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be similar to Hidelle). How could I find her? Where could she be? Well, there was only one way to find out: wander around aimlessly and pray I found her before tomorrow. I sighed deeply. This was going to be a long day.   
  
I began walking when a misty memory in the back of my mind, a memory I couldn't possibly have, practically knocked me over. That man... Treize. Hadn't he said something about the gypsies? Yes, he had! About them escaping! And Une! She had mentioned them, too! Okay... if they escaped, they had to have been caught, right? But by whom? There's no king here, so then who could possibly catch Hilda and her family? Une and Treize were soldiers or something... There were no soldiers here, either: only gun fighters, outlaws, and the law. Outlaws wouldn't take prisoners, I don't think (that'd be stupid of us), neither would most gun fighters (they're out for the money mostly). That left...  
  
Of course! More memories flooded me. It's weird how they came in bits and pieces. I realized then the parallel of the royalty of my past lives and the law now. In fact, the old sheriff had just died and his son was to take the job. Now, I'd seen the old sheriff, but I had no idea he actually had a family! Then again, I'd spent most of my life running from him, not sitting down for tea and talking with him. I bet, I just bet - that the sheriff's son would be the young blonde... Quatre.   
  
Look at me piece this all together! Damn, I'm good.  
  
This town was fairly big, all things considered. I didn't know many people (other than what their wallets looked like). I figured it was about time I met the sheriff and his family and became a bit more involved with the law force. Reaching this conclusion, I headed, to my shock and utter disgust, to the local jail.  
  
When I arrived there, I met with the deputy: and wasn't I shocked when the redhead told me his name was Teres? Of course I wasn't! And I was grinning like a maniac even more so when his "assistant Lady Uma" walked in and introduced herself. Hey, it's cool knowing everyone before you've met them! Anyway, "Uma" said that the gypsies had been caught. Using my wit that I'm oh-so-famous for, I quickly made up my reason for visiting. "I heard that a couple of dirty gypsies were invading or town! I've never seen a gypsy, though, so I don't know what to look for. Are they mean looking? With big teeth and huge claws and..." I exaggerated, thoroughly exercising my imagination. My little plot worked like a charm and I was brought to Hilda's cell.  
  
The girl looked up when she saw me, but masked her recognition well. Her mother was there as well, the two clinging to each other in a protective manner, but her father (the tall blonde) was nowhere to be seen. I couldn't exactly ask about it, so I held up my act. Slumping my shoulders, I pouted, "Aw, they don't look mean! They just look dirty and dressed funny." I controlled myself and kept from smirking at Hilda's insulted expression.  
  
Teres put a hand on my shoulder and spoke in a smooth voice, "Don't be fooled. They'd slit your throat if given the chance. Best stay away and leave gypsies to us." He glanced at Uma who nodded and guided me out. I couldn't help but wonder, though... did Treize really believe that or was he just trying to scare the nosy little kid? As Une guided me out, I was nearly knocked down by... Hilda's father?! He was dressed in a normal suit (which looked nicer than anything I could ever afford!) and seemed to fit in with both the lawmen, er, man and woman. I was guided out and had the door slammed in my face without a word.  
  
Things just kept getting weirder and weirder...  
  
And I was stuck again. I knew where Hilda, her mother and father were, but I couldn't talk to them while they were in there or I'd get locked up, too, and I couldn't get them out of there, because I'd get caught in the process. They were stuck in there and me out here for the time being. However, I also knew that Treize was the second in command and he and Une were close: just like my past lives. But now I didn't know why Zeches wasn't locked up and why he wasn't dressed like a gypsy. In fact, he was dressed like a rich guy. I also didn't know where the young king, the queen, and the ladies of the court were. They seemed important figures that I should know the whereabouts of. Unfortunately, I didn't know where to look for them.   
  
Just then, Lady Luck waltzed past my front door: in the form of the blonde with four eyebrows. She was dressed in a fine red dress (that was too flashy for my taste... er, not that I have taste in dresses, but you get the idea) and was carrying an arm-load of things: food, jewelry, clothes, you name it. She looked ready to fall over. It was pretty amusing to watch her wabble from side to side trying to avoid horses and people in the road, actually. Gathering my senses and stifling my laughter, I realized that this girl could take me to the other blonde - Relena. Maybe I could find out why she was the queen when the blonde "angel" wasn't present. Taking the opportunity, I jogged over to the woman and grabbed some of her bags, muttering about helping her to carry them. After giving me a few odd looks, she dumped all of her stuff into my arms and trotted off calling back, "Follow me." Struggling under the weight and the blindness of having a large frilly dress and about five boxes in my eyes, I followed the girl. This had -so- better be worth it.  
  
I was taken to a rather nice looking building with two stories and many rooms. I made my way up the stairs (after about three trips and one slide - don't ask) and to her room. I was practically glowing when I saw Relena. Maybe it was because I had achieved my goal and was on my way to solving this and changing Fate, or maybe it was because I was hot and sweaty from lugging all those packages. Either way, I was glad to meet her.  
  
The two girls chatted a bit about what the first had bought. After a few minutes, they finally noticed me standing in their doorway. "Ah yes, Reena, I forgot to introduce you. This boy was kind enough to help carry my things."  
  
Relena smiled and nodded, "Thank you, I'm sure Dorthy appreciates it."  
  
My head turned as the taller blonde spoke, "Oh, I do. I don't know how I would have managed."  
  
My head shot back to "Reena," "And so many things! You carried them all the way here?"  
  
"Yes, he did! He was a true gentleman, just ran to help me."  
  
"How nice! You don't find many gentleman nowadays."  
  
"Oh, I know." The two giggled about some inside joke and I laughed nervously in response. (Not to mention how dizzy I was feeling from all the verbal ping pong...) What had I gotten myself into?  
  
"Heh, heh, yes well..."  
  
"You're not dressed very nicely. Are you poor?"  
  
Could she be anymore straightforward?  
  
"Dorthy! I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive Dorthy, she forgets her manners sometimes." Dorthy just grinned smugly. "Um, I'm afraid I haven't learned your name yet. I'm Reena Pecip. This is my sister, Dorthy." She nodded to me.  
  
I bowed slightly and responded, "I'm Daniel Maxel, but you can call me Dan, Miss. Pecip."  
  
She smiled, "Please, call me Reena."  
  
"You didn't answer my question... Dan." Dorthy reminded me with a raised eyebrow and an unnerving smirk.   
  
I forced down my snide remarks: they wouldn't get me any needed information. "Just deal with it now, you can curse and hurl insults later," or so I told myself silently. "Yeah," I replied, "I'm not exactly well-off." I conveniently forgot to mention the "I'm a thief" part.  
  
"I assume then, Mister Maxel, that you wish to be paid for carrying my things?"  
  
"Dorthy!"  
  
I shrugged. "Not really, but feel free! Actually..."  
  
Dorthy crossed her arms and smiled thinly at me as if to say, "I knew it." Reena asked, "What?"  
  
I looked to the floor, then looked back up, "I'd rather have some information." Now honestly, I'd rather have money, but if the info would keep me alive, well, life's a priority. Both girls tossed me confused yet curious glances. Now... how to phrase what I needed to say in a way that wouldn't upset them.... "Well, you see, being -poor-" I glanced at Dorthy, "I don't know a lot about what's going on with the whole 'sheriff thing.' I was wondering if either of you ladies could explain it to me."  
  
Relena opened her mouth to reply, but Dorthy butted in, "What's to explain? The sheriff died, so his eldest son is supposed to take over. Of course, Teres doesn't like this, but he has no real say in the matter."  
  
I stored the bit of information into my already crowded brain, "So why don't we have a sheriff yet? Why doesn't the son just take over?"  
  
Dorthy got a gleam in her eye for a second, then looked over to Reena innocently. Reena sighed and answered Dorthy's unasked question, "Well, I know how much you love to gossip, so you might as well spread the rumor further." Then she muttered something about "lack of family pride."  
  
The smirking blonde nodded to Reena, grinned, and turned to me. Leaning in, she spoke softly as if afraid the walls would hear her, "Well, rumors are going about that the sheriff's son is in league with the gypsies currently captured. They're supposed to be executed Monday, and he doesn't like it. Because of this, the rumor's spread even further. Now the people say that if he's made sheriff, the gypsies will roam free letting them sneak into your house and kill your children, or slit your throat while you sleep or..."  
  
"Dorthy! No need to be so graphic!"  
  
The older girl stood up straight, her long hair which was (unusually) left hanging down her back swayed as she stood. "I'm only telling him so that he knows what to expect. Besides, he asked."  
  
My thoughts were dancing as I inserted names: So Quatre, the sheriff's son, didn't want Hilda and her family to.... Hilda and her family were going to die on Monday?! ... so they're getting the same treatment as me... I could think about that later, though. Okay, so the rumor said that Quatre would make Hilda and her family along with all other gypsies equals in society, but everyone thought that gypsies were dangerous so they wouldn't let Quatre become sheriff? That didn't explain how Relena or Dorthy fit in, though, and why Relena would take the throne, er, whatever, if Quatre didn't. I phrased my question slightly different as I looked back at Dorthy, "How do you know all this?"  
  
For the first time, Reena answered instead of her blonde friend, "The sheriff was our father."  
  
I nodded with the realization and answered dumbly, "Oh... Thank you, ladies," and practically ran out the door. I need to think - make a family tree or something. I stood in the hallway, dumbly staring off to space, as I thought about this new knowledge that could save my life.  
  
Okay, so Dorthy and Relena were the sheriff's daughters. That explains why one of them would be next in line after Quatre... after Quatre... That means Quatre was the sheriff's son, right? I guess I was assuming it, but if he were next in line, it worked well enough. I assumed that since he took the place of the deceased king, that he would take the place of the deceased sheriff. It made sense, but it was still just an assumption. However, assuming that was true, that would make Relena, Dorthy, and Quatre all siblings. That made sense, too: blonde hair and blue eyes must run in the family. But if Dorthy was older, why did Relena take the throne? Maybe Dorthy declined it... but why? And Quatre and Relena couldn't be siblings: they looked too close to the same age. Maybe they were twins? It was possible... and it wouldn't be the first odd coincidence. What's more, it made sense.  
  
I was still confused, though. Treize and Une were the link between the next sheriff and the people. That meant that any rumors came from those two... So why didn't Treize want Quatre to be sheriff? Maybe because Treize was against the gypsies? But why bring down Quatre to make the gypsies look bad? Maybe it was because Treize wanted to be the sheriff? That could make sense... But it was stupid. Treize would have nearly as much power as deputy. He'd probably even get -more- respect than Quatre because of how much older he was. Why would title make such a difference to him?  
  
The really confusing piece of this puzzle, though, was Zeches. How the hell did he fit in?! He's like the damn last piece of the puzzle - the one right in the center - that until you put that piece in, you can't see the whole picture... but the stupid piece just won't fit! It's from the right puzzle and it's the only piece left, but the damn thing won't go! It's annoying as hell, trust me. He looked rich enough in this life, but why wasn't he in the past ones, then? And why wasn't he married to Hilda's mother in this life? Did I do it? Did Hilda? Speaking of whom, if Zeches isn't Hilda's father, than who is?! Zeches was really starting to piss me off, and I hadn't even spoken to him yet.  
  
What about the blue-eyed warrior that kills me? Was he even part of this mess? I hadn't seen him in town anywhere... where could he be? And who the hell was he (besides my murderer and a kick-ass fighter)? And why does he kill me at all?  
  
Why do I die at all?  
  
That really bugged me: how did any of this relate to my death? The sheriff, his family, the deputy, and a few gypsies. How does that lead to me bleeding? Was I just in the wrong place at the wrong time -every- time? Was there any real purpose behind my dying?  
  
Dying for no reason at all. That is -so- wrong...  
  
...and hurts so much...  
  
Around that point in my thoughts, I heard the door downstairs open and slam shut. Shit! I had completely forgotten that I was in a stranger's house! If somebody caught me, I'd never be able to explain myself, and I'd probably end up in the jail! And I didn't solve the puzzle yet, so there was no way I was going to get caught now! Before I realized where I was standing, I practically hurled myself into the railing. I stood there for a minute, gathering my senses, then I looked down at the main floor to see who had just entered. A group of people stood below me, looking around nervously. And that's when I noticed... despite the unusually normal attire, these people were the actors from my past lives! I gasped, but kept myself otherwise quiet as I watched down on them silently. With a bird's eye view, I listened and watched the scene play out.  
  
The entertainers stood around nervously for a few moments when a small blonde boy entered the room. I smiled with recognition. Quatre. He was in the same building as Relena and Dorthy - that meant my assumption of their relation was probably right. Good for me. The blonde spoke with a brown-haired woman I recognized as the actor with harsh blue eyes (and that hair style's pretty hard to forget, too).  
  
Quatre spoke softly to the general group, "I'm sorry, may I help you?"  
  
"Yes, actually," the woman stepped forward taking charge, "We're looking for work - you see, we're a traveling band (acrobats, players, musicians, dancers, anything we're asked, really) and we were directed here." The woman paused looking around, "They didn't say why they pointed us here, but," she shrugged, "here we are!"  
  
The blonde boy stood, dazed, for a minute before replying, "Well, uh, this is a personal residence. The Pecip house." He smiled softly, "You were probably sent here as some practical joke against my family. I'm sorry."  
  
The strong blue-eyes of the brown haired girl blinked in mild anger. "Don't be. A joke." She turned shaking her head "A joke." The girl paused and turned back to the blonde finishing, "We apologize for disturbing you, Mister Picep." The girl turned and walked away, followed by the rest of the group - except for one.   
  
A tall brunet remained for a moment silently, simply exchanging glances with the blonde. Then the taller boy spoke, "Do you happen to know..."  
  
"Yes." The blonde cut him off before he could finish, but neither seemed phased. "There's a saloon a few doors down, " he nodded his golden head to the right. "They should be hiring some sort of entertainment." The brunet nodded his thanks and turned to leave. When he reached the door, he looked over one shoulder, exchanged another glance with the blonde, then continued the rest of the way out, almost as if he didn't want to leave. Quatre remained standing for a minute, not moving, then shook his head and reluctantly turned back into the hall from which he had came.  
  
Weirder and weirder.   
  
Blinking myself out of my temporary amazement/confusion/train of thought from my perch on the railing, I decided to follow the entertainers. I knew I was missing something, no matter how unimportant, and I was determined to find out what. I know, curiosity killed the cat. I didn't care if they weren't important, I wanted to know, damn it!   
  
Meow.  
  
My curious nature led me to the nearest saloon. I walked inside and was struck in the face with the strong atmospheric change. Outside, the streets were dusty, relatively still, and the wind blew clean smelling air into my face. The colors were pale grays, greens, and blues, as if the whole world had been drained of life. Everything was still, and soft, and slow. Once I entered the saloon, though, it was like a whole other world. My ears were assaulted with loud music (which was only topped by the full hollering of drunk men and the shrill laughter of drunk women), my eyes met vibrant colored dresses and drinks, and the air was dark and so thick that it nearly brought tears to my eyes.   
  
This was my kind of place.   
  
This crowd was the easiest to steal from - if you were daring enough. They were all drunk out of their minds and, better still, they all carried most of what they owned or valued in their pockets. The down side, though, was that none of them thought twice about pulling out their weapons; and they -all- had weapons... quite a variety, too. You name it, at least one person in there would have it. It wasn't the nicest place in the world, and it was the home of many thieves and crooks. And, being a thief, I was home.  
  
Pushing my way through the hot masses, I made it to the bar. Just as expected, the actors were speaking with a young bartender about a job. Their words were caught in the music and drifted beyond my hearing range, but I figured out the basics. Nothing much unusual was said. They wanted jobs, he gave them some. There was something strange, though, and that was the bartender. Toss him in a few robes and you had the dark haired boy from the cathedral! Who knew? Huh. Quite a jump from Notre Dame to the local saloon. I couldn't help but wonder what his story was... As usual, I did the obvious thing - I asked.  
  
As the actors left, I managed to get (note - steal) a few coins and wandered my way to the bar. I tossed down the coins and asked for a drink. Although I was quite happy with getting a drink, sneaky me had ulterior motives. After taking a sip from my glass, I asked the bartender a bit about himself. I guess he gets that a lot, so he talked with me for a while. I told him about my past (not past lives, just the one recent one), and he told me some information about his. Apparently, his home town was ravaged and completely destroyed. He heard that someone in -this- town had something to do with it, so he came here and got the nearest job he could. I was quite interested with this... I just love a bit of mystery. Okay, a lot of mystery - like me being without a clue as to why I was going to die - is annoying and just plain sucks. But a bit of intrigue is fun.  
  
Seeing how there was not much I could do about his situation at the moment and how my drink was gone (and poor me was out of money again), I decided to leave. When I stepped out of the saloon, a burst of night air hit me, clearing my senses. Wait... night air? What time was it?! Frustrated, I stalked out of the doorway and was about to go into the street when I saw a little girl sitting on the steps. Actually, I saw her after I nearly stepped on her. To avoid running over her, I stepped to the side: thus tripping over my own feet and landing, face down, in the dust.   
  
I should've just trampled her.  
  
Too late now. I looked up from my place on the ground and received another face full of dust the girl threw at me. I coughed and sputtered yelling, "Hey! What'd you do that for?!" but the girl just sat, not answering. I stood and brushed my dusty clothes off slightly, then looked back at the girl. She sat on the steps in a common looking dress, playing with the dust. I raised my eyebrow and bent over to watch what she was doing that could possibly be so interesting.   
  
Her eyes straight ahead and unblinking, the girl gathered the dust into her right hand and held it over her left one. She then dropped the dust like an hourglass from hand to the other. She then switched hands and repeated the mindless task. When her hands were finally devoid of dust, she gathered more and started all over again.  
  
O...kay... "Hey, little girl, where're your parents?"  
  
Continuing her game, she stared straight through me and said, "I don't have parents."  
  
Feeling a wash of sympathy, I sat down next to her. "Yeah, me neither."  
  
We sat in silence, the only noise being the soft rustle of the dust she was toying with.   
  
After a while, I looked at her and called her saying, "Hey, " but she didn't turn to acknowledge me. I raised an eyebrow and passed my hand in front of her face. The redheaded child didn't blink her wide cyan eyes. My jaw dropped, "You're blind?"  
  
"I have more sight than you."   
  
That sounded like an insult... but she was just a little kid (and I didn't quite understand it...) so it couldn't have been, right? "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Without looking at me (duh, she was blind!), she changed the topic, "You see the dust?"  
  
"Uh... yeah." Okay, the kid totally lost it.  
  
This girl dropped the dust in her hand and held up one grain for me to see. "Alone, a bit is nothing and will remain so, no matter how it wants to become what it is not." She picked up another handful of dust and continued, "I have control of the dust, even as it slips through my fingers. Some grains fall back into the dust they came from, but the majority stays in my hands." She picked up another handful of dust from the same spot below her feet and spoke, "No matter how much I drop, I can pick it back up. And just because one or two grains fall, the others are not affected."  
  
I blinked but nodded. Realizing the girl wouldn't notice my silent affirmation, I vocalized it, "Yeah, okay... and is there a point?"  
  
The girl continued, "But if one simple grain of dust should foolishly decide it doesn't -want- my control, if it makes the wind change," as she spoke this, a small breeze of wind picked up, causing her fiery bangs to dance across her water-like eyes. As the dust passed from one of her small hands to the other, it was blown away and scattered, never to reach her second hand, "then all the dust is lost."  
  
Confused, almost scared, always curious, and ever logical, I asked, "Sure, THAT dust's gone, but can't you just pick up a new handful?"  
  
The child did as I suggested, "I can, but it is not the same dust." She then threw down the handful of dust she had just picked up spitefully and slapped her hands together, cleansing them of their chalky gray coating. Standing, she began to walk away, just barely missing running into anything on her blind path through the eternal dark of dead eyes.  
  
I stood, moving to help the girl who was already far out of my reach, "Hey, do you need help or anything?"   
  
The child turned and looked through me, "Worry about yourself, Daniel.... And remember what I've told you." Then her red hair flashed as the back of her head faced me again, and the girl walked off.  
  
I thought about her story for a minute before calling out, "Wait! I found a loophole!" With a jerking movement, the child went rigid and she stopped in her tracks. She turned to face me once more, twin lifeless blue pools for eyes staring into me, almost angrily. I swallowed under the gaze but continued, "A bit of dust can't cause the wind to change."  
  
The girl paused simply staring silently for a minute before replying. Her face relaxed into an expressionless mask that was nearly as dead as her eyes. "I didn't think so either." The child turned slowly, then tossed her head over one slender shoulder and finished, " ...but here we are." And with that, she walked away from me, her slight form blending and becoming one with the darkness.   
  
  
There was only one way to explain that little girl, but since she -was- a little girl, I wasn't about to say it in front of her. ...So I muttered it to myself after she left. "That was -so- fucked up..." It gave me the shivers just thinking about it.  
  
A long yawn wrenched itself from my mouth and I realized just how late it was - and how tired -I- was. I had to sleep. Besides, there was (another) big day ahead of me. I walked to a nearby alley and lay down. That place was as good as any. I fell to my back and rested my tired head on my neatly folded arms. Staring up at the stars, I just couldn't seem make my brain shut up long enough to let me relax. Hundreds of thoughts, possibilities, and feelings were running through my mind, keeping me from any chance at sleep.  
  
Apparently, my thoughts weren't -that- loud, because I was soon snoring away. It was cold in the dusty back road, so I curled up in my sleep and hoped dawn would come soon. I was constantly waking up to shiver, pray it was morning, and drift back off into a world of nightmares and nonsensical mysteries.  
  
It's scary how much that dream world was akin to my real one.  
  
Anyway, the important thing that happened that night, I don't know if it was a dream or not, I heard running. I smelled the ashy scent of a fire (or multiple infernos) and chips of half-burnt wood invaded my lungs and reddened my eyes, tossing the world before me into a blurry haze. I looked over to my right and dimly saw a few dark figures running, dodging between shadows like lost rabbits with a wolf on their heels. They scurried off into an nearby alley as the smell of fire and dim shouts became stronger. I curled closer to the decrepit wooden wall and buried my head to my chest, desperately trying to blend into the shadows. After a few minutes, my eyes stopped watering as the smell of fire retreated and the darkness and silence were once again mended. I fell back into that darkness of sleep, whether I was asleep to begin with or not.  
  
And some time later that night, when I was in the darkness of pure, dreamless sleep, the day of my death began. 


	5. The Wild West

Warnings:   
AU, minor het, major angst, minor scheming, major coincidences, minor... eh, you get the idea.   
Oh, and did I mention it's a [multi-]death fic?  
  
  
Chapter 5: The Wild West  
  
"... and I heard you say, 'the past was much more fun.' ...  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
On Saturday, I said the whole week sucked: but as bad as that was (oh, the headache...), Sunday was undeniably worse. It was like my whole life was cursed or something. Oh, right, stupid me. It was.   
  
But I digress...  
  
The next morning came slowly, and the sky was still a dull gray when I woke up. I stretched and immediately regretted the action as waves of pain ran through my neck and back.   
  
Note to self: sleeping in alleys sucks. Don't do it again.  
  
Yawning, I decided to find something to eat. When was the last time I ate, anyway? Probably a day, at least. As I wandered down the street, ducking into closed stores to find some food, I thought about how to avoid... dying... later today. I started my train of thought with ol' blue eyes the warrior. If things didn't go my way and I couldn't convince either Quatre or Relena not to allow me to die, I had to have a back-up plan. Fighting the guy wouldn't work, that was obvious (even with foul play), refusing to fight didn't work, and neither did using morals. What other options did I have? The guy had absolutely no heart, no morality, hell, no emotions even! He was like a damn stone with a weapon! How do you talk to a stone? Well, it's easy, but stones don't get up and walk away because you talk to them. You have to throw them to get them to... Throw... Hm... If I could completely throw the guy for a loop... it might work... if I could totally knock him out of his senses, I might be able to talk him out of it, or at least stun him long enough to let me get away. Yeah, I could do that... if he were human.. which he's obviously not. I had to think... any little thing I could remember from a past death... anything that affected him at least slightly....  
  
In Rome, he was unmoved as I denied my ability to die. In the Cathedral, he was even worse, not even caring that we were in a holy place and unaffected by his own damnation. And, of course, in the tournament, he was a sto... wait. Something did throw him off... a smile. When I was dy.. yeah, I smiled and that made him unnerved. Then I complimented his eyes, and he paused again, looking confused. Yeah, he killed me anyway, but he hesitated first.  
  
Those hesitations could save me.  
  
But I doubted that smiling at him would make him any less likely to kill me. There had to be something I was missing.... I just had to think of what it was -exactly- that unnerved him and then flaunt it... ...and I had to think of it fast, especially if everything didn't go as well as I was planning it would. I hated to admit it to myself, but I was leaving a lot up to Fa... LUCK! Leaving a lot up to luck...  
  
I tossed away the apple core from the fruit I had been eating for breakfast and was about to turn into another store, when I noticed the gypsy woman with dark hair. Her fiery eyes were flashing around nervously; I guess she was looking for someone. Those vibrant violet orbs rested on me for a second, then continued scanning the open area. I started walking toward her; my good nature was getting the better of me: I actually intended on helping her find whoever or whatever she was looking for. Luckily, my feet stopped before I reached her as I realized the jeopardy I was putting myself in.  
  
Adrenaline rushing and my heart pounding, the same thoughts began twining in my brain. "Run! Run while you can! Stay away from her, avoid everything! She's the start of it all! Her and those bracelets!" I cast a glance to the shimmering trinkets on her wrist; they clanged together softly with a musical quality, and the polished gold glistened as the sun rose steadily higher into the blue sky. I felt my street instincts kick in as the thief in me plotted how easy it would be to steal from the woman. It was so tempting... "Stop it! Don't think about it! Run! Get away!" Hesitantly, I listened to that inner voice that I knew was right, and began turning my back on the woman when a few children burst from one of the stores. Two small girls were chasing a boy who held a number of apples tightly to his chest. The three ran laughing towards the woman and I. Two of the children ran past, one nearly knocking me over, but as the third continued without looking, she ran straight into my side, toppling me into the gypsy woman like a domino. The three of us fell to the ground in a heap of dust and curses. When the dust cleared, the red-haired child was gone, the mysterious dark woman was leering at me with a mix of hatred and horror, and three golden bracelets dangled from my wrist.  
  
Hearing the clanking of the metal and feeling its cool texture against my skin was too much. Shaking my head in denial, I smiled, muttered a string of curses, and began laughing. I continued laughing, harder and harder, until my sides hurt and thin tears were squeezed from my eyes. I couldn't stop, and just laughed, even as I fell to my knees and clutched my stomach. I realized the situation, what the woman staring at me must've thought, everything, but the more I tried to halt the sound, the more I laughed. It was so incredible! Utterly impossible! It couldn't be happening! And I continued laughing at the thoughts. When I finally did stop, I sighed deeply a few times and wiped my eyes with a dusty palm. I sighed again and looked up, only to meet three pairs of intense wide eyes.  
  
I chuckled nervously under the gypsies' unusual glares and stood up, their eyes following me. I looked from one to the other to the third and back before meekly answering their silent questions with a small wave and, "uh... hi." The family exchanged glances and spoke to each other in a strange language. Hilda smirked at me once, then continue talking with her parents.  
  
After a few minutes of talking, the older woman and man exchanged meaningful glances, then nodded. The blonde man took my hand and pulled me up to my feet. I smiled and thanked him, but my politeness received only an icy blue glare. Before I had the chance to say anything more, Hilda grabbed my arm, said, "Come with me," and pulled me along behind her towards wherever the tent was currently set.   
  
I followed the girl out past the boundaries of the city. There she pulled me into a tent and sat down on a few blankets. She gestured for me to sit as well, so I did. As soon as we were settled, I started the conversation, past the crap and right into the meat. I needed answers and I only had a few minutes to get them.  
  
"So what were you and your mother in jail for?" The girl shrugged, just sitting there. I raised an eyebrow. "What, you don't know?"  
  
The girl shrugged passively again and said, "Because we're Roma, I suppose. People seem to hate us for our blood. What they don't understand is that our heritage doesn't makes us criminals... or thieves." She looked poignantly at me.  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
Hilda smiled and "introduced" herself. "Helena Merchase."  
  
"Daniel Maxel."  
  
"Dan." The girl nodded in realization, "Almost always three letter nicknames with you. Three must be your lucky number."  
  
"I don't believe in luck."  
  
She laughed lightly. "You don't believe in Luck, you refuse to believe in Fate (even though you've seen Her work), you don't believe in the Law, and you never believe anything anyone tells you. So what DO you believe in?"  
  
My eyes challenging hers, I replied, "Myself."  
  
A moment's silence filled the air before the girl began again, "My parents couldn't understand what you were laughing about, and frankly, I couldn't either. My father wanted to leave you, but my mother wanted to help you, hence the discussion."  
  
I interrupted, "And what did -you- want to do?"   
  
She paused, "Well, I told them that I could try to find out what was wrong with you and that it'd be good practice for me."  
  
I had to raise my eyebrow at that. That's not what I had asked. She was dodging my question... but that wasn't important. "About your father..."  
  
Glimmering blue eyes staring up at me, she asked. "What about him?"  
  
"He's not a gypsy, is he?"  
  
She rolled her eyes at that remark and rested her elbows on her knees. She sighed slightly, still smirking, answered, "you just guessed?" and rested her cheeks on her hands. Those glittering eyes never left me.  
  
I glared back at her. "So, you're only half-gypsy? That would explain the screwed up spells..."  
  
She sat up with a start, "MY spells are -not- 'screwed up' and I am a full blooded Roma, thank you!"  
  
"You mean hot-blooded..." As she glared, I laughed lightly and leaned back onto my arms. "So he's not your real father?"  
  
The mischievous smile returned and the girl replied, "He's not my father -at all-. In fact, I just met him two days ago."  
  
I raised an eyebrow, "So who is he?"  
  
"Hell if I know, though judging by the way he was dressed, was acting, and what he said, he was someone very important to this town."  
  
"Was? Why isn't he anymore?"  
  
She sighed deeply and fell onto her back in a defeated manor. "I'm going to have to tell you the whole story now, aren't I?"   
  
I smiled and nodded. "Yup. ... And don't lie or leave anything out this time."  
  
From her place on the blankets she grinned, "Never!" and began her short tale. "Well, as you saw, my mother and I were tossed into the prison. While we were there, we met Zex, 'my father,' as he casually stopped into the jail to talk with Deputy Teres. My mother tells me that she and Zex 'fell in love at first sight.' Because of this, Zex, who was called Milo or something at the time, promised to free my mother and I. When Teres objected (saying how Zex had 'no influence over the law yet'), Zex helped us escape just last night. He stole some clothes and posed as my father while we escaped the town and set camp. My mother only came back to get some food and supplies when you ran into her."  
  
I thought this over for a moment. " 'No influence -yet-,' huh?"   
  
Hilda shrugged. "That's what he said. Your turn now." She held out her hand expectantly.  
  
I looked up from my mild reverie, "What?"   
  
"I need your cross."  
  
"Oh, yeah..." I nodded and handed her the necklace.  
  
The girl took it and admired the pendant for a minute. She then held up the silver "x" and asked, "You believe in a god, but not Fate?"   
  
I glared at her. "Yes, I believe in God, and let's not start a religious discussion right now, all right? I don't have enough time to argue."  
  
She shrugged, knowing smile once again on her lips, "All right, sorry I asked." Hilda performed her task of relaying the future, and once again looked into my eyes, waiting for me to ask what she say.   
  
I grabbed my necklace from her outstretched hand and as I refastened the clasp, I told her firmly, "Yes, I'm sure. Just tell me."  
  
Straight faced, the girl spoke strongly, "You're going to die tonight."  
  
I swallowed the sudden bit of fearful anticipation that rose to my throat. "Where?"  
  
"Hm?" She looked up from where her eyes had rested on her hands.  
  
"Where am I supposed to die?"  
  
She shrugged. "You're going to die in a shoot-out of some sort in the street."  
  
My expression dropped in disbelief. "That's it? A gun fight in the road? Nowhere special?"  
  
She smirked, "What were you expecting? The Coliseum?"  
  
I blinked, then nodded, "Yes!"  
  
Hilda shook her head. "This is a small town." Her voice took on a sarcastic note, "I'm sorry Dan, but there's no grand architecture for you to be killed in." I rolled my eyes once again. "I'm not kidding, though. Fate has determined that you will die tonight, in the main street, by a warrior's hand. I don't decide these things."  
  
I sighed as my mind ran through the possibilities. "The street. I've been lowered to the dusty street. Of all places to die... I can't believe it! That's a long way from Notre Dame, ya know..."  
  
She shook her dark head, "Deux..."   
  
Ignoring her slip of names, I continued "And everything's so much more confusing now than it was then, too! What with Zeches and Relena and Quatre and..." I silenced abruptly in realization.  
  
"Dan?" Hilda questioned.  
  
I smirked, muttered the three blondes' names again, then nodded. "I'm going to die tonight."  
  
"You can't run fro..." Hilda paused, mid-sentence and blinked in confusion. "You are? Without an argument?"  
  
"Yeah." I stood, prepared to leave. "Because I didn't know yesterday what I do now. But next time..."   
  
She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, "Who said there's a next time?" and I was forced to stop my grand exit.   
  
My confident smirk dropped and I turned on my heel, questioning her sharply, "What?"  
  
"You intend on fighting your destiny. I can't stop you, no matter how much of an idiot you are. But," She held up a finger, "Fate can. I told you this curse wouldn't last. If you're relying on information to save you, who says you'll remember next time? This could be the -last- time you remember your past lives." The girl sighed lightly. Knowing what her pause meant, I reluctantly sat back down, shaking my head.  
  
"You've had more than one chance to prove that Fate can be changed. This life, or the past ones, you've still died on this day. Everything you've done in this life has been done in vain if you don't remember this life next time. You admit that you'll die today, but you have to realize that there might not be a next time."  
  
My demeanor grim, I answered, "I have to remember, Hilda. You can't do this to me and then just take it away like that."  
  
The girl replied sharply, "I told you there were consequences when I made you aware of your past lives. I can't change that." She leaned in closer. "We're not in control here."  
  
My heart was beating faster. I couldn't believe it... "No. You did it once, you can do it again. Try." I shook my head and stared at the floor. "I can't lose when I'm this close."  
  
"I've told you before. This isn't a game. And if it is a game, then Fate is holding all of the winning cards."  
  
I grabbed her hand and pushed it against the pendant around my neck, "Then you, 'Helena,' are the Ace up my sleeve. Do the curse again. I need to remember Saturday next time, too."  
  
"There's no guaranteeing that..."  
  
"I don't care! Just say it, already!"  
  
Staring at me from a furrowed brow, Hilda muttered some foreign words and closed her cyan eyes. When she opened them again, she said, "From this life onto the next, you'll remember this day."  
  
"And yesterday, too?"  
  
The flaps to the tent opened and revealed her father. Hilda raised her chin and nodded to him. As the man grabbed me by my collar, I shouted back to the girl, "Well? Will I? I need Saturday too, Hilda! It's important!"  
  
She shrugged, her glistening eyes avoiding mine at all costs. "I can try, but don't depend on it. I'll see you next time, Dan."  
  
"No! I need Saturday, Hilda! I need it!" I was dragged out of the tent by my heels and back into the harsh midday light. I didn't know where he was taking me this time, but it was the last thing on my mind. As Zex dragged me away, I asked accusingly, "You're Milo Pecip, aren't you?"   
  
The blonde paused for a moment, then began walking again. "No. Zex Merchase."  
  
I nodded knowingly. "Sure, you tell -me- that, but what'll you say to Lady Uma?"  
  
When I was finally stopped and hauled up to my feet, I came face to face with the tall woman. Uma was in spurred leather boots and carried shimmering twin pistols on each hip. "Zex." She nodded, obviously mocking him. She knew he was Milo, I knew he was Milo, and of course he did, too, but she used the name "Zex" like an insult. The man's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "And where are you heading off to in such a rush, Gypsy?" The man glared but didn't answer. They stood silently for a minute, two glaring each other down and me just watching (since the back of my shirt was still caught in Zex's fierce grip). After a short period of silence which seemed to stretch for hours, Uma's eyes fell from the man long enough to notice me. She spoke to Zex, still eyeing me, "And who is this? Picked up another one?" She reached out for me, and as I tried to back up instinctively, I was stopped by Zex's ever-present hand on my collar. The woman grabbed my necklace and stared at it for a minute before releasing the chain to fall quickly back to its place on my chest. Uma raised a thin brown eyebrow, "Well, he isn't gypsy, so who is he?"  
  
As crystal blue met and challenged the depths of hazel, Zex spoke, "No one." He then pushed past her, me still in tow.   
  
The woman reached out like a snake and grabbed my other arm. "If he's not a gypsy, Milo," she paused in mocking emphasis, "then what do -you- want with him?"  
  
"And if he's not a criminal, then he's not your concern, either." He verbally spat, wrenching me back towards him.  
  
I felt like a freaking tug-of-war rope! They continued pulling me back and forth, me helpless to fight, when Uma pulled out the trump card: or rather, she pulled out one of her guns. "He's a thief, so he's my business." Zex remained stone-faced as he pushed me into the woman's grasp (or should I say clutches?). The woman nodded and began pushing me off, with her gun mouth digging into my back. As she walked, she tossed a glance over her shoulder and hissed, "I'll be back for you later, Gypsy." And I was pushed towards the jail. Things just kept getting better and better.  
  
At least I understood them a little better today.  
  
I was directed into the putrid building where I was pushed to the center of the room. Surprisingly, there was a rather large audience for such a small place. The actors weren't there for reasons unknown, however, in their normal spots were the tall blonde woman with twin curls lacing the sides of her face, and her son, Quatre. A shimmering golden star on the boy's vest confirmed my suspicions: Quatre was sheriff. Shortly behind him were Teres, Reena, and Dorthy; the five seemed to have been having a conversation when Uma and I burst in.  
  
Uma spoke, "Sorry to interrupt, but this boy is a known thief and needs to be dealt with. Excuse me." The woman began pushing me toward one of the cells, straight through the group of people.  
  
"I'm not a 'known thief' and I didn't steal anything! Let me go!" Despite my cries (hey, they were true! I wasn't a KNOWN thief and I didn't steal anything... the bracelets were an accident, alright?), I was still pushed, rather roughly, toward the nearest prison cell.  
  
"Excuse me, Lady Uma," Quatre broke in (Yes! Go Quat! Take command! Get me out of here!), "But who are you to charge that boy with anything?"   
  
Uma growled softly under her breath, "Let's call it a citizen's arrest." As she began to push me into the cell once more, a clear soprano voice broke in, once again halting the woman.  
  
"What did he steal?" Relena folded her arms and cocked her head in question.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
Dorthy backed her younger sister up, "Yes, we know this boy: not as a thief, but merely as a polite person who happened to fall on unlucky times. So I would also like to know: what -did- he steal?"  
  
Uma fumbled over words for a minute, (she had no clue that I had stolen anything, and the bracelets happened to be conveniently hidden under the sleeve of my shirt) before grabbing the cross around my neck. "This. He stole this." She declared triumphantly as her fist jerked, shattering the chain.  
  
As a few links fell to the floor, my eyes went wide. I gasped and shouted, "My cross!" and attempted to grab it back from her. In response to my attack, the woman took her gun by the barrel and slammed the handle across the back of my head. I saw the world spin and black spots jumped out of nowhere into my vision. The ground sped up to meet my face and everything went black. My last thoughts were of regret that I couldn't defend myself while unconscious. If I couldn't defend myself, I was as good as dead. The all too familiar blackness crept into my vision from the floor as my eyes closed and the noise around me blurred and echoed as if far away...  
  
  
"If I may suggest, Sheriff..."  
  
  
I woke from the throbbing black and red darkness, to the sound of dripping water of some unknown source. Rubbing gently the throbbing lump on the back of my skull, I slowly sat up straight. When the memories of what had happened began coming back, my hand flew to my neck, searching around my chest in vain for the necklace I knew was gone. It was gone... really gone. I sighed deeply, and as I lowered my hand in defeat, the jingle of the bracelets on my wrist mocked me. Damn things. Three of them this time...   
  
Three. Some lucky number.  
  
I had accepted that I was going to die. Understandably, I didn't want to, but I knew that it was inevitable. Even so, my future -would- change with my next life, and I could still be saved. The future isn't written in stone; I could still change it, I knew I could. And next time... if there were a next time... I would win. I'd beat Fate's ass down, once and for all. I knew it. After all,  
  
I had to.  
  
When I finally came out of my thoughts, I noticed that the sheriff, Quatre, was watching me from a chair a short distance from my cell. I raised an eyebrow. "What?"  
  
He shook his golden head lightly and muttered, "Nothing, just..." The boy paused, looking at his hands. When my eyes followed his line of sight, I found that he was mindlessly playing with a chain in his fingers. My breath caught. It was mine. Besides my clothes and my hair, it was the only thing that was truly -mine-. I wanted it back.  
  
"I didn't steal it, you know."  
  
The crystal blue eyes looked up. "I figured you didn't. Then I spoke with my sisters and I knew that you wouldn't have."  
  
The boy didn't move from his seat. I waited for a minute, but only received silence. "... can I have it back?" Give it! My cross! Mine!  
  
Mulling this over for a moment, the blonde stood and walked the short distance to my cell. Leaning over, he dropped what was left of the chain into my palm. "I don't see the harm..."  
  
I pocketed the chain quickly, then realized that the pendant was missing. "What about my cross?"  
  
Quatre shook his golden head, "I don't have it. I tried to get it back for you, but Teres said that if it were stolen, then you had no right to it. All I managed was the chain. It was the least I could do for you."   
  
Grumbling about the loss, I muttered venomously, "Well, if you wanted to do more, like, oh, I don't know, pardon me and let me out of this cell, that'd be nice, too." I glared, still upset about my cross being in Teres' filthy hands. I knew Quatre wouldn't let me out, but you can't blame a guy for trying.  
  
He smiled sadly, his expression genuine. "I wish I could."  
  
"Why can't you?" I countered. "You're the sheriff, aren't you?"  
  
Quatre sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I wish it were that simple."  
  
"You wish for a lot, don't you?"  
  
Laughing softly, he replied, "Yes, I suppose I do."  
  
"Well why don't you stop wishing and start acting, then?" I crossed my arms, "That gold star on your vest does more than just sit there and look pretty, you know."  
  
"I know... and I will... " he trailed off as his eyes lowered, then met mine once more. "Just not yet. I was just made sheriff -today-. I have to prove myself to the people before they'll trust my judgment."  
  
I was confused with his logic. "How are you going to prove yourself if you give other people the power?" Like a light bulb above my head, I realized some more of that important information, even though it wouldn't save me... this time. "You. You're why Teres started those rumors about Milo and the gypsies."  
  
Quatre's eyes widened and he leaned in with curiosity. "What?"  
  
I nodded. "Teres started rumors about the gypsies so that you'd be sheriff and not Milo. I don't know why he'd rather have you as sheriff, though..." I looked down, then up at the blonde from the corner of my eye. Sure, I knew the answer, but I had to make -him- know it.  
  
Frowning, Quatre finished, "... he thinks he can intimidate me because of my age." As a memory surfaced, the boy lightened and smiled, "Milo is much too stubborn to be intimidated, you see."  
  
I smiled slightly with him, then became intense again. "You're a born leader, Quatre, I know it." At that moment in my speech, a few rough-looking men led by Lady Uma came in. "You just have to believe in your decisions and stand up for yourself."   
  
Brow furrowed, he sighed, then responded. "I'm sorry..." My cell was opened and I was dragged across the room by my arms. As I was pushed through the twin doors, I heard the blonde sheriff say, "And who's Quatre?"  
  
  
My face was in the dirt once more. Guess where I was?  
  
The Coliseum? Please.  
  
The Tournament? Yeah, right.  
  
The Cathedral? I wish! Such a nice place to die....  
  
The... street? Hell yes. Two steps out the door and we're there. Actually, they pushed me, causing me to fall flat into the dust, (yummy) so that was even less than two steps.  
  
Yup, God hates me. Well, everyone else seemed to, so why not The Creator, too? It's like a game with Him, "how many people can I get to hate Daniel today? Oh look! Three more want to kill him! Great! Now, let's go for four...." ...I don't understand it. Huh. Like that's new. I don't understand anything anymore... -Especially gypsies.-  
  
The people seemed to flood into the street to watch the event. (It's not every prisoner who's brought in front of the public to be killed. Lucky me.) A few laughed as I "fell" and the same few hissed and booed as I walked/was directed towards the far end of the street. What must've been hundreds of eyes - probably the whole town - were all watching me, some cheering (few), some hissing (more), some just watching (the majority). I just wanted to get it over with. I just wanted them all to stop looking at me. I just wanted to be back in that silent church with the air smelling of incense and melted wax, and the light fading through dusty stained-glass windows. And silence. I didn't want to be here, and I -really- didn't want to die.  
  
In the crowd, I picked out Quatre's mother, and his two blonde sisters: none of which seemed very thrilled about my upcoming death. By the saloon were the entertainers. Behind me was Uma, off to the side like a hawk was Teres, and the blue-eyed gun fighter had yet to make an appearance. I spotted Hilda and her mother, Zex, and the small redhead all for a fleeting second, but then they vanished to the shadows to watch from a safe distance. Well, the gang's all here, time to start the party.  
  
After a few minutes, the young sheriff came out of the jail and leaned against the side of the building to watch with a stern, yet worried, expression. I bowed my head; I didn't want to look at them, anyone. I didn't need their pity or their hate, and I knew full well what was coming. A second later, however, my head shot up to the sound of a horse galloping and the muttered and whispered comments of the crowd.   
  
Enter the warrior. Stage left.  
  
I didn't want to die. Anyone who -wants- to die, doesn't know what they're in for - believe me. Dying sucks, and I wasn't about to change my mind about it. End of all your problems? Yeah, right. Ever since I learned the truth about dying, I've only gained more problems to deal with. I mean, come on! I was fifteen! I didn't need this shit!  
  
No, I had to stop thinking like that.. I had to stop thinking about what was coming... the pain and another life and more pa.... stop. Just stop thinking. If I kept thinking like that, I would've broken down into a quivering mass... again. No. I just had to blank out my mind entirely.... peaceful darkness... and silence.  
  
The thin figure on horseback emerged from the dust. The whispering grew in intensity as the horse slowed to a walk against the backdrop of a golden setting sun. The light silhouetted his form, casting shadows across his stern features and outlining him in a halo of yellow light... yet that man was the farthest thing from an angel possible: he was a killer.   
  
My killer.   
  
"My killer... I have a killer... I'm really going to die... Stop. Silence. Just shut up, Brain."  
  
The warrior/gun fighter dismounted in a fluid, sweeping motion and walked slowly toward me: a gun on each hip; each step he took was followed shortly by a chime of the small spurs on each boot. The crowd was silent, holding its collective breath. I silently told my heart to stop pounding, I willed the sweat on my forehead to cease, I prayed my hands would stop shaking, and I told my mind to just fucking shut up! But no one ever listens to me - not even myself. The boy paused a short distance from where I stood and cast a glance at Treize. Treize made the slightest of nods. Narrowing his eyes, the boy walked towards my in a sharp gait; clink, clink, clink.  
  
Wait, why did he need Treize's permission? Come to think of it, every time I was killed, first Tr..  
  
I dropped my head again and concentrated on nothing. "You're thinking too much... am I? ...or not thinking enough? And stop breathing so hard... tell that to my lungs. Relax, you know what's coming... so why is my throat dry? Stop blinking so fast, it's not normal... since when is dying normal? Your heart's not that loud, really... it seems to disagree, is it hot out here? Stop thinking about it, it'll be over soon... how can I stop thinking about it? These will be my last thoughts! Calm down, you've been through it before: you know what to expect... but oh, God, I don't want to die!"  
  
As my mind began breaking itself down and the internal battle raged on, the external one had yet to begin. There I stood, expressionless face masking my fearful anticipation, as I waited for this guy to hand me a gun. When he finally reached me, I saw his feet pause before me (yes, I was looking at his feet. I said my eyes were down, didn't I?). I knew what the pause meant. 'Yeah, I look pathetic: I'm a thief and I'm about to die. What do you expect?' When I heard muttering from the crowd, I knew he had asked them a silent question that few dared answer. (Anyone that raised their voice to a man with a gun -never mind two guns - was an idiot.) I saw two leather riding gloves hit the ground, causing a small cloud of dust to rise at my feet. A similar colored hat fell next, but I refused to look up.  
  
I felt those steaming blue eyes burning into my hair, but still I didn't look up. I couldn't force my chin to raise, I couldn't face him. Hey, listen, you try looking death in the eyes! It's not like it's an easy thing to do or anything... Give me a break!  
  
And I could feel that intense glare grow deeper as the boy attempted to hand me one of the two guns from his hip. I couldn't take it. I knew that if I didn't take the gun, I'd be shot without a weapon, but I knew that if I -did- take it, I'd be shot with one. Heavenly Father, how I hate lose-lose situations!  
  
I swallowed deeply and forced my eyes to look up. As my violet clashed with his sapphire, I cringed. Eyes unwavering, I shook my head. I cleared my throat just enough so my voice wouldn't crack, then spoke softly, "I can't."  
  
He narrowed his eyes. "Why not."  
  
Never asks questions, does he? Just demands answers. Like the stone he is. Stone... oh right, my plan. I swallowed hard. How do you smile when you know you're going to be shot? Thinking as I had earlier this morning, the realization seemed to hit me and I smiled. It must have looked pathetic, but it was a smile, no matter how bitter. And the smile turned into harsh, sarcastic laughter as I choked, " 'Cause I'm gonna die!" I paused in my laughter at the last word, then began laughing again, my eyes falling from the gunfighter's confused face to the dusty ground. I put my hands over my eyes without even realizing it and sat down in the dust, still laughing lightly. The onlookers were silent and my laughter sounded unbalanced and thin, even to myself.  
  
When my laughter slowed and I looked up for a moment, I saw the gunfighter looking off to the side. When I followed his glance, my eyes met Teres and my laughter stopped. As I saw him turn and walk away, I bit the inside of my lower lip until it bled. The metallic taste pooling in my mouth diverged my attention for a fleeting second as I looked back at the ground. I heard the safety of the gun click and the barrel being spun in a quick rhythm. Shaking all over, I tucked my knees to my chest and buried my head in my arms.   
  
I could almost see the gunfighter's expression in my mind: a look of distaste without pity, like shooting a horse to put it out of its misery. I heard muttering and shuffling as the crowd disappeared back from where they came, the sport over.   
  
In truth, no one likes watching another person die: be it stabbed, hanged, burned at the stake, decapitated, any number of painful ways men can devise, or just shot straight out. When two people duel, though, it's easy to pretend it's all a game, and the loser gets what he supposedly deserves (whether the loser wanted to fight or not). But when a stranger with no reputation is publicly executed, without a fight or a prayer, it's not worth watching. I wasn't some famous killer or someone who did some horrendous act like murder an innocent with my own bare hands; no, to them I was just some little kid who stole a necklace, and the fact that I was just like them, that any one of them could be in my place under the barrel of a gun, scared them enough to keep silent and walk away. I could call out and ask for their help as they might in my shoes, but none would help me and, truth be told, if the situation were reversed I wouldn't help them. And in a few minutes when they heard the gunshot from their homes, they wouldn't laugh and declare "justice has been served," and they wouldn't cry and declare the opposite, they would just go on with their lives.  
  
But I would not have that luxury.  
  
My fingers were woven deeply into my hair as I clutched my head, and as I waited for the final shot, my nails dug into my scalp causing twin lines of pain that barely phased me. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, but I knew that same blood would be rushing out of a gunshot wound momentarily... and there was nothing I could do. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and mumbled a short prayer I had heard somewhere. Before I could finish reciting the ending, though, the loud crack of a gun pierced into the back of my head, the waves of the sound forcing their way through my neck and out my ears, and as my sight faded to an abrupt blackness, everything went still.  
  
  
In the brick red mist, I vaguely saw a dark figure pause, mutter, "... I'll see you next time, Dan," and then be consumed by a tsunami-like wave of scorching fire.   
  
Then everything was silent once more. 


	6. New York

A/N  
-In the next few chapters, I mean no disrespect to New Yorkers! New York people are cool. (And it's not like I'm insulting their accent, 'cause I'm from "New Joisey," and my own is pretty close...)  
  
Warnings:   
Being written by one very lazy authoress, AU, cliffhangers, name changes, Fate, past lives, anachronisms, cursing, angst, shounen-ai/het and a major death fic. You know, the usual.  
  
  
Chapter 6: New York  
  
"You go your way, I'll go mine...  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
This week was... different. The curse remained, and to my good fortune, I remembered this crucial fact on Saturday. Everything changed. Sure, Monday through Friday were the same as always (terrible as usual) but Saturday, my life went from dull and annoying to hectic and, well, annoying.   
  
It didn't matter though. This was my chance. I had to focus, I had to stay on track. This was the only chance I'd be getting, I knew it, and I had to make it count. Carpes Diem. Seize the day. It was now or never. ...and it sure as hell wasn't going to be never.  
  
After going through the plan in my mind at least three times, I was ready to start the morning. I was on a strict schedule and everything had to be timed perfectly. If I were late to anything, I could lose everything. It was as simple as that. I could only hope that everything would be the same as it was back in the West.  
  
Yet, there was the problem. Back in the West the town was small; getting from one place to another took all of two minutes. Here in the Big Apple, though, things weren't nearly so close together. That royally screwed with my schedule. I'd be cutting things close, too close for comfort, and there was no room for guessing; I had to KNOW where to go, who to find, and where to find who.  
  
Damn it. This would be harder than I thought.  
  
Come hell or high water, though, I was prepared. My plan was set today and I'd be set for tomorrow. If everything went right, I'd beat Fate Herself. ...but how often does stuff ever go right for me?  
  
Immediately clearing the thought, I stood and stretched, my ragged black-turned-gray tee-shirt riding up, exposing part of my stomach to the harsh morning air. Pulling my shirt back down, I yawned and started focusing my mind. Okay. Now what? I decided to stop my future death (hard decision, I know). I had to find someone and make sure I changed something... but who? The root of all evil: Hilda, the gypsy girl. Somehow I knew that she'd be in prison right now, and Zeches would be there too - and he was the first person I needed to talk with. The real problem, though, would be that they'd both have different names this time and asking for someone who doesn't exist doesn't go over well with the feds. It didn't matter. I'd think of something on the way there.... So I started my way to the City Police Station. I hated going there (for obvious reasons) but I didn't have a choice.   
  
What I did have a choice about, though, was how I got there. No way I'd walk: it'd take forever. I could catch a cab, but I couldn't pay the driver. There was only one other option. It was a stupid thing to do considering my destination, but I'm not one to pass up a good opportunity because of a little risk... or a lot of risk.   
  
So I hot-wired a car. Simple enough. Wasn't anything nice, just some clunky thing that nobody'd really miss. But the engine ran - and in my mind, that's all that mattered.  
  
When I arrived at the station, I parked in the back and decided that I wouldn't be coming back for "my" car later; in the mean time, someone might be reporting it stolen. If I needed to, I could always stea--, uh, borrow another one later. With confident steps (even though my brain was screaming at me to run), I pushed open the glass doors and strolled to the main desk. There I met with a thin woman in a blue uniform who was slouched over a couple of files. I cleared my throat and the woman looked down on me with a drawled out, "Whaddya want?"  
  
A New Yorker after my own heart. As she looked up, I realized who it was: Une. Shaking off my hatred for her, I inquired gently, "I'm lookin' for my mom and sister. They called and told me they were here, but didn't say why."  
  
"Their names?" I blinked momentarily. This wasn't good.. come on, think fast, Dust.  
  
"Huh?" ...oh yeah. Real good one, Idiot. At least it bought me a whole second more thinking time and made the woman just a little more upset with me. Great. 'Cause a pissed off Une is just what I need in my delicate plan.  
  
Une looked annoyed at having to repeat herself. "Ya mom and sister's names."  
  
"Uh, well, I'd tell ya, but they... they pro'lly used different ones when ya brought 'em in here. My family's weird about identity and stuff since we're from a different country and had ta change 'r names when we came 'ere." I paused and added dramatically, "It was traumatic, really." I smiled genuinely. The woman rolled her brown eyes. "But I, uh, I can describe 'em to ya. My sis is about my age, real black hair, tan skin, blue eyes, ready to bite ya head off. My mom's got the same hair cut and skin only with purple eyes like mine. They're pro'lly wearing some weird costumes, too, knowin' 'em."  
  
The woman flipped through some papers on his desk, looked around for some sort of escape, then sighed in frustration. "Fine, folla' me."   
  
I sighed in relief and smiled. "Thanks." Une strode off through a few hallways and to a group of cells, me hot on her trail. There she made a gesture with her hand. Taking the hint, I walked by each of the cells looking for "my family." When I found Hilda and her mother, I gasped and fell forward, grasping the bars dramatically. "Mom, Sis! I've been so worried about yous guys! When ya called ya didn't tell me what had happened an' Dad wasn't home so I came by myself and I was worried sick!" Seeing the twin blank looks, I cast a knowing glare at Hilda.  
  
The girl looked to the side with a contemplative expression, then turned back to me with joy-filled eyes and exclaimed, "Dustyn!" She then pulled herself to her feet and ran forward, hugging me through the bars. "I'm so glad you came, brother! I was so scared! Are you going to get us out of here?" Luckily, Une didn't give a second thought that my "sister" didn't have the same accent I did. Okay, maybe I -do- get lucky sometimes...  
  
"Uh..." as the girl released me, I turned back to the cop who had led me in, "What're they in fuh'?"  
  
Une simply leered in my direction for a minute, then shook her head. She shrugged impassively. "I'd have ta pull up their files and I ain't got the time for it, kid."  
  
I narrowed my eyes. Didn't have the time... I bet. What an ass. "So when're they gettin' let out?"  
  
The woman came towards me, "When somebody pays bail. Now come on, I don't got all day." With that, she grabbed my arm and started pulling me out.   
  
I wrenched my arm out of her grasp and glared up at the woman. I spat venomously with the utmost seriousness, "Don't touch me." then stomped off in the direction we had come, the cop following me, for once.  
  
Une sat back at her desk with a thump and glared down at me. "If you don't got the money, then get out. You're wastin' space."  
  
I growled under my breath and turned. As I was about to walk out, I stopped myself just in time to watch a tall blond man in a gray trench coat come through the door. Looking around suspiciously, I walked over to Zeches and blocked his way. The man glanced down at me, then excused himself and tried to pass. I wouldn't allow it. Finally, he stopped attempting to pass and asked, "Can I help you?"  
  
I smiled, but it faded quickly. "Yes. You can. I need ta talk with ya."   
  
The man raised a light colored eyebrow, then asked, "About what?"  
  
I whispered hurriedly, "About a certain two prisoners currently in the back cells."  
  
He paused and looked curious for a second, then tried to walk past once more. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
I stopped him again and whispered hurriedly, "Yes, ya do. And they're gonna get killed if ya don't listen to me."  
  
The man looked shocked for a minute then angrily replied, "Outside. Now." And proceeded to drag me as inconspicuously as possible out the door and around to the back of the building where he pushed me roughly against the wall. "You stay away from them or they will be the -least- of your problems."  
  
I tried to back up, but only managed pushing my head against the brick wall. "Woah, woah, slow down! I, I don't wanna hurt 'em! I wasn't threatenin' 'em! Hell, I wanna help ya -save- 'em! Hmph, some thanks I get for it, too. Is this the way ya treat all ya future allies?"  
  
"Allies?" The man looked a bit confused, but still suspicious enough to keep me against the wall, his fist pressed roughly against my collar bone.  
  
"Yes, allies! If... uh, ya let me down, that is."  
  
The man growled lightly then placed me back on my feet. After ceremoniously dusting off my bedraggled t-shirt and black jeans I looked back up at him. "Look, I wanna help ya. I know ya were gonna help those two escape tonight but believe me, it wasn't gonna work. Yous all were gonna get caught and then killed on Monday." The man looked suspicious but I continued, "But, if ya give me the means and put the job in my hands, I'll do it for ya. And I won't get caught, either."  
  
The man stood silently for a minute before asking hesitantly, "How do you know all this?"  
  
I smirked, "Ask Hilda."  
  
He raised a blonde eyebrow in question. "Who?"  
  
Sighing, I replied sharply, "The girl - the daughta' of the woman you're in love with, whateva' 'er name is."  
  
Zeches blinked a few times. Ignoring my looks, he muttered to himself, "You know I'm in love with Lu?"  
  
I nodded casually, "Yeah, of course, why else would ya risk ya future job ta bust 'er and 'er daughta' out?"  
  
The man frowned deeply. "I didn't tell anyone that." The man glared at me in suspicion, "I didn't even tell -them- that."  
  
"I know." My gaze matched his in intensity. "Ya just have ta trust me."  
  
Zeches stood silently for a minute before looking back to me in defeat. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
I grew grim, "Because lives depend on it." My life, to be precise.  
  
He looked away for a minute, then hardening his expression, Zeches asked, "So what do you want me to do?"  
  
We discussed the plan for that night thoroughly, then stoically went our separate ways. Zeches headed back into the Station.   
  
And I was stuck again.   
  
I knew the plan, I knew Zeches knew the plan (or his part in it), and that's all that really mattered. The rest would depend on everyone else involved acting the way I predicted they would, and being where and when I knew they would be.  
  
Just then, another piece of my plan waltzed through the back alley: in the form of the Dorthy. She was dressed in a rather... revealing red outfit that looked like ten cows were killed to make it. Colorblind cows. She was carrying an arm load of things all piled in boxes and bags taller than the girl herself. I was surprised that she could even move in all of that tight leather, never mind how she managed not to fall over. It was pretty amusing to watch her wabble from side to side trying to avoid garbage cans and stray cats, actually. Then she wandered a little too close to the street... Cars whizzed by, honking their horns as the blonde began striding out into the open road, without the right of way. Gathering my senses I ran out to help the girl before she got run over. I sprinted over and grabbed some of her bags, muttering about idiocy, cars, traffic signals and "women and shopping." After giving me a few dirty looks (yes, I'm dashingly handsome, especially in my unwashed clothes and ragged hair, I know), she dumped all of her stuff onto the sidewalk and proceeded to scream at me. "How dare you touch me, mongrel! Go steal something worth stealing, I spent hours picking out these clothes for my sister and I and I'll not have your filthy hands on them or me!"   
  
"Hey! Look, Lady, I don't want ta touch ya goods." I eyed her up and down. "ANY of 'em." She scoffed, and I continued, "Excuse me for savin' ya life! You shouldn' just wander off aimlessly inta traffic and expect ta make it ta the other side! Why don't ya look where ya goin'!"  
  
Dorthy stuttered for a moment, then looked down angrily. "Thanks." She muttered.  
  
I smiled victoriously. "Ya welcome." Then I sighed and bent down, gathering up her many packages. "C'mon, I'll help you with these."  
  
"I can manage, thank you!" She began grabbing packages from my hands and stacking them back up. The girl stood once more, boxes piled to the sky, and began tottering off.  
  
I rolled my eyes. Nice girl. Really. Watching her struggle to glance around the boxes and keep from tripping, I felt a bit of street instinct kick in. As fiery as she was, she'd still be a REALLY easy target - for mugging, pick-pocketing, or whatever else some sick individual decided. Dressed like that, she was just screaming, "attack me!" I sighed heavily. Why am I so nice sometimes? And I followed the girl, watching her back for her, and making sure all of the traffic was with her. This had -so- better be worth it, because if I'm THIS nice and still die... man, then Life's a bitch.  
  
I followed her to a rather nice looking building with at least twenty or so stories and hundreds of rooms. She walked in, oblivious to me, and shut the door behind her (which politely slammed in my face with the force). Having nothing better to do, I hung around outside. I didn't have to talk with Reena or Quatre, their part in my plan didn't involve my interference. Heck, my interfering could HURT the plan. But I had nothing to do until later tonight... so I sat on the stoop and thought. Of course my thoughts were optimistically depressing (figure THAT one out), so I won't go into detail.  
  
Anyway, after a few minutes of sitting there, I saw an odd-looking trailer pull into the back parking lot. I sat on the stoop, watching but looking inconspicuous (being a thief as an occupation, you pick up a few neat tricks like that). So a group of pretty normal looking people rounded the side of the building and stepped up to the stoop without even really noticing me. A thin brunet woman read the sign on the building and nodded to the people behind her, then she entered, followed by the rest of the troupe. As they all gradually filtered into the building, one tall boy a little older than I was paused, looking down at me with little expression. I raised an eyebrow and just stared back for a minute, silently asking what he thought he was looking at, putting as much sarcasm as you can in a single eyebrow. The green-eyed boy shrugged, then walked into the building after his family. Where he had paused, though, were a few scattered coins. Ah yes, one of the entertainers. Hey, I didn't ask for his charity... or a magic show... but I happily accepted both, sweeping up the coins and tossing them into my pocket.  
  
As predicted, they were only in there for a few minutes, before the brunette woman came storming out, blue fire in her eyes, followed by the group, looking dejected. I quickly dodged out of the woman's warpath and watched her storm back to the trailer. A few minutes after that, the tall brunette boy opened the door, walked out, glanced over his shoulder back into the building, then shut the door. Before he could walk away though, I stopped him. "Hey, thanks, man, but I don't want ya money."  
  
His green eyes just stared at me for a minute with almost a vacant expression, before he shrugged and began walking away. "Don't worry about it."  
  
I called out after him, "Hey! What's ya name, anyway?"  
  
He turned slowly and answered. "If you must call me something, call me Triton." Once more, he walked away at a steady pace. From the back parking lot I vaguely heard the woman calling for his name, and Triton calling something back. A few seconds after that, Quatre opened the door slowly, his bright blue eyes peering from behind the slit in the wood. His eyes looked hopeful, but when they fell on me, that meager hope vanished. Oh, I was hurt. I laughed, "Sorry to disappoint ya, kid, Triton left."  
  
Quatre opened the door fully, looking at me with awe. "That was his name? Triton?"  
  
I laughed again, "Ya mean ya didn't even ask the guy's name?"  
  
Frowning, he answered softly, "I, I didn't think of it, I guess." He turned to go back in the building, then catching himself, the blonde finished, "Thank you, um...?"  
  
"Dustyn." I answered nodding.  
  
He smiled politely. "I'm Calvin Pececref." With that, he walked lightly inside and shut the door behind him.  
  
...Weirder and weirder.   
  
  
Seeing how there wasn't much I could do about anything at the moment and how I had a lot planned for later that night, I decided to leave and find some place to sleep for a few hours. It was getting dark and I could almost smell the night air already. I wandered around the city, trying to find any place I could sleep that was both dark and safe - a combination that's hard to find in any major city. Eventually, I decided on the alley behind the police station. Not only was it both relatively safe and dark, but also close to the heart of my plan - Hilda and her "family." I piled up a few cardboard boxes and old stacks of paper to settle in, then sat down. I scanned the area one last time for possible danger, and seeing nothing, I plopped down onto my makeshift bed.  
  
I was laying there for a few minutes when I heard a soft whooshing sound. I cracked one of my eyes open slowly, and found myself staring up into the face of a little red-haired girl. Yelping softly, I sat up, causing the girl to fall backwards onto her backside. I shouted down in annoyance, "Whadda YOU doin' 'ere?!"  
  
I should've smacked her, I should've kicked her, I should've turned her into the police as a missing child. But instead, I talked to her. How stupid can a guy get?!   
  
She didn't speak at first, only stared up at me with those huge eerily empty eyes.  
  
"Well? Whadda ya want from me?"  
  
"I want nothing, Dustyn."  
  
I laughed bitterly. "Yeah, me neither, so why don't you just go away?"  
  
She sat in silence, the only noise being the soft rustle of her heavy breaths filtering through her unkempt bangs.   
  
After a while, I noticed just how terrible her breathing sounded. "Hey, y'all right? Ya don't sound so good."  
  
The child looked straight through me, "Worry about yourself, Dustyn. Remember this, and heed it: the queen can not be so easily hurt by a lone pawn, no matter how much knowledge his player has. The queen may grow weary of the game; she may grow tired of chasing the last remaining piece about the board, but she will not be defeated in one move, especially if that same move has failed before." Then her red hair flashed as the back of her head faced me again, and the girl walked off.  
  
I thought about her story for a minute before asking softly, "Failed before? You mean... ...but who?" She turned to face me once more, twin lifeless blue pools for eyes staring into me, almost annoyed.  
  
"You are not the first to play this game, and you will not be the last. Do not think so highly of yourself, Child; the world does not revolve around your death alone." The girl paused simply staring silently for a minute before continuing. Her face relaxed into an expressionless mask that was nearly as dead as her eyes. "That egotism handicaps your abilities, as it has handicapped those before you." The child turned slowly, then tossed her head over one slender shoulder and finished, " ...if you do not believe me, then ask she that moves you about the board." And with that, she walked away from me, her slight form blending and becoming one with the darkness.   
  
She was gone before I could ask any more, so I muttered it to myself after she left. "...she who moves me about the board? I thought that was you, Marie. But if I am a pawn, and you are my opponent, not she who moves me, then who holds the pieces?" It gave me the shivers just thinking about it.  
  
A long yawn wrenched itself from my mouth and I realized just how tired I was - and how little time was left before my Grand Plan was put into motion. I had to sleep; there was a huge day ahead of me. I lay down once more, my eyes closing with heavy lids. I slept restlessly, constantly waking to check my (stolen) watch what time it was, then drift back off into a world of nightmares and nonsensical mysteries.  
  
It's scary how much a dream world is akin to my real one.  
  
And some time later that night, after the moon was high and the world was asleep, before the dawn but after Midnight, a ball of calamities, miracles, horrors, and tears was set into motion; I awoke to the sweet air of night, and as my watched ticked off the seconds, the day of my predestined death officially began. 


	7. New York City

Warnings:   
Being written by one evil authoress: evil cliffhanger, annoying name changes, evil Fate, annoying past lives, evil cursing, evil angst, and an extremely evil death fic. You know, the usual.  
  
  
Chapter 7: New York City  
  
"...but I'll see you next time!  
  
...It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
  
On Saturday, I said the whole week sucked, and it did. Face it, I didn't GET good days anymore. I used to think there was always a good for every bad... but as of Sunday, I wasn't so sure. My whole LIFE was cursed, and that'd take a hell of a lot of "goods" to make up for it....   
  
But that's not important.  
  
  
The next morning came too soon, and the sky was still as black as ravens' feathers when I woke up. My watch read 11:56PM, and it was almost time for my plan to begin... I stretched and immediately regretted the action as waves of pain ran through my neck and back.   
  
Note to self: sleeping in alleys really, really, REALLY sucks, you fucking moron. Can't you learn from your mistakes?! Don't do it again, ever! I don't know, steal a bed next time or something...  
  
I stifled a yawn, my mind waking itself up. When was I supposed to start? Who was I supposed to meet? Where was I supposed to meet him? I answered each question with a precise answer, my eyes never leaving my cheap, "borrowed" wrist watch. This was it. Everything depended on this day. This hour would make or break my plan, and there would be no more chances. If I were going to avoid dying later today, I had to break the chain here, and now. But if I didn't br-- no, I couldn't think like that... any little hesitation could throw me off and ruin my chances... anything that affected me slightly could completely ruin me. This time, I had to be detached, cool and calculating. NOTHING could be left up to luck.  
  
The watched ticked 11:58. Close enough. I stood, fully awake and adrenaline rushing through my veins; my hearts was pounding in my chest as I took slow and precise steps closer toward the back door to the police station. I crept up silently, my back to the wall, and waited next to the entrance. I made no sound, and my black outfit blended in perfectly with the crisp night air.  
  
A minute later, the creaking click of a key in lock switched, and the dark wooden door slid open. A tall figure in a deep gray trench coat held the door open as I swept past him silently; he stepped outside and shut the door behind him, but the lock did not click behind me.  
  
Plan A in full motion. I swallowed, my bright eyes darting across the room. Nothing: no movement, not a sound. Perfect. I crept to the empty desk and grabbed a set of silvery keys off a rusty hook. The metal threatened to expose me with its chiming, but I deadened the noise in my palm, my knuckles turning white with pressure. I was not about to be caught. No way, not yet, not when I'm so close... I stalked further into the prison, my mind ticking off the turns. Soon I came to a long row of cells, the prisoners within sleeping. My sneakers slid across the floor without a squeak, and I made it to my destination. As quietly as possible, I slid a numbered key into the lock and turned it. Nothing. Another key, and turned it, nothing. Another, and I was rewarded with a small click. I held my position, not daring to move. That tiny sound could've woken anyone. I paused, waiting and listening. Silence. After another minute, I slowly slid the heavy metal gate open, and was met by two shady figures, fully awake and standing. I nodded for them to get out, and they did so silently; all three of us had spent most of our lives sneaking around, and we had all gotten very good at it.  
  
I stepped out of the cell and pulled the door shut softly behind me. As it squeaked, I paused and waited. Once again, silence. I slid the door shut and locked it. I took the lead and the other two followed silently; they knew the plan, or their part of it, at least. I counted the turns and we finally came to the main section. I dared a tiny smile at the sight. Almost there... I wiped the keys off on my shirt, then gently placed them back onto their assigned hook. As I turned to leave, a door next to the large desk opened, and Une stepped out, in full uniform, pistol in hand. She pointed the gun at me and snarled, "Get ya hands up! Don't move!" My eyes widened and I took a few steps away from the key rack, shocked. "I said don't move! Get ya hands up!" My eyes locked with hers as I slowly began raising my hands. "Ya have the right ta remain silent. Anything ya say can an--"   
  
Two joined fists barreled down on the back of Une's neck, and the woman fell to the floor unconscious. Hilda kicked away Une's gun with one booted foot and her quick blue eyes darted up to mine. "Well? What are you waiting for?!"  
  
I hastily shook off my momentary shock. "Right." I muttered and ran, pushing through the heavy back door, the two gypsies in tow. Once we were off, the trench-coated figure locked the door behind us and walked solemnly home in the opposite direction. As for Une... well, who the hell cares?  
  
  
I ran on as quickly as I could, through every alleyway I could find, never taking main streets. We couldn't afford to steal a car, and who really cared if the back roads were dangerous? What we left back there was much worse than any would-be mugger. I kept looking back to make sure Hilda and her mother were following. I was so paranoid they'd just disappear when my back was turned - and with good reason! Fate's always waiting for a chance to screw me over, and having my plan ruined after it had come so far already would royally suck, and I mean ROYALLY. Thankfully, the little brat, Marie, was nowhere in sight. "Hopefully lying in a gutter somewhere dead..." My brain added with a mental smirk.  
  
Finally the three of us made it to what I declared a safe distance. My watch read 1:02AM. Ahead of schedule, that's good. We stopped in a small marked alley, one that'd be easy enough to find if you were looking for it, but hard to find if you were just randomly searching. The beaten old green street marker read "Sulataf Way." Huh. Wonder what poor sap THAT was named after...  
  
The gypsies made a tent out of some shawls and an old beam that was lying in a nearby dumpster. I rested against one brick wall, my eyes closed and my head bent into my neck. For the next few hours, I was in a state of non-sleep: my eyes were closed and my mind was switched "off," but every now and then, I'd wake up, look around, then bow my head once more. You don't get any real rest doing that, so that's why it isn't technically sleep. (Trust me on this, I'm an expert when it comes to sleep.)   
  
When the sky turned from black to an ashy gray, I began waking up. There's no wash of colors at dawn like there is a dusk: no bubble-gum-pinks or denim-blues, and no blood-purples or fire-reds. My God, how I hate sunsets...  
Sunrises in the city are just... gray: mindless, lifeless, soulless gray. No passion in a sunrise, sure, but no pain, either. Just simple sulfur gray across the sky, fading into black at the edges. Soothing, numbing gray. Dawn I could take; but I don't know if I could watch another sunset without...  
  
Clearing the thoughts, I stretched my sore muscles and sat down on the dirty ground, then pulled my knees to my chest. With my head buried and eyes closed, I was free to think about what really mattered: the plan. My mind started running through any possible interferences with my plan and how to fix them. So many little things could go wrong in the short span of a day... from sunrise to sunset so many things could turn on me. I sat there thinking until eventually the gypsies woke up and began to piss me off for no apparent reason. Have I mentioned lately that I love gypsies? Oh, yeah, love 'em to death.  
  
Hilda's mother stepped out of the tent, her fiery eyes were flashing around like she was looking for someone. After a few seconds, those vibrant violet orbs rested on me. The woman smiled kindly, said something softly and approached me. I sat up quickly, then stood, my back instinctively pressing against the wall behind me. The woman stopped before me, spoke quickly with bright expressions, then began slipping the three golden bracelets off her wrists.  
  
My eyes went wide. "HILDA!" I screamed then ran over to the tent, pulling the half asleep girl out.  
  
"Dustyn, what's wrong with you?! Let me go! And it's HELENE."  
  
I shoved her into her mother. "Keep 'er and those damn bracelets away from me! So 'elp me God, I will murder that woman if she even THINKS about givin' 'em ta me again!" The woman looked confused and slightly hurt. She spoke to me in that foreign language, then to her daughter, then stared blankly at me. "Tell 'er, Hilda! Tell 'er to---"  
  
"Helene. My name is--" She corrected forcefully.  
  
"Tell 'er!"  
  
The young gypsy sighed and spoke softly to her mother in the fancy pattern of language. Funny, I didn't -hear- the word "damn" in it... It's times like that I wish I knew more foreign languages... er, ANY foreign languages...  
  
The older woman nodded, then said something to me.  
  
"What'd she say? Ya told 'er ta keep those fuckin' things away from me, right?"  
  
Hilda rolled her eyes. "If you think I would say 'fucking' to my mother, even on your behalf, you're crazy."  
  
I narrowed my eyes. "But ya told 'er, right?"  
  
She sighed. "Yes, I told her. Jeez, chill out, Dustyn."  
  
I laughed. "Chill out, she says. Chill out..." I trailed off. "Know what? YOU be the one destined ta die today, then let me tell YOU ta chill out."  
  
Hilda spoke to her mother again, and the older woman nodded. The girl then grabbed my arm, said, "Come with me," and pulled me along behind her into the makeshift tent.  
  
She sat down on a few blankets and gestured for me to sit as well, so I did. As soon as we were settled, I started the conversation, curious as to what Hilda wanted. "So what's the deal? I'm not gonna die, so no need ta tell me where it's gonna be." The girl shrugged, just sitting there. I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not goin' ta." I don't know if I was trying to reassure her or myself... but for my self-esteem's sake, let's say her.  
  
The girl shrugged passively again and said, "You've said that before, and it hasn't been true yet." She looked poignantly at me.  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
Hilda smiled and "introduced" herself. "Helene Mercese."  
  
"Dustyn Maxwel."  
  
"Dustyn." The girl looked sideways in contemplation, "Dust."  
  
I glared at her. "'Been playin' mind games with Marie lately?"  
  
She looked up at me with a shocked, guilty expression. "Wha-- what do you mean?"  
  
My eyes challenging hers, I replied, "The thing with the dust. The little blind girl was playin' with the dust back in the west."  
  
Hilda sighed in relief, "Oh, just that. Yeah, I did..." A moment's silence filled the air.  
  
I glared suspiciously. I HATE when she does that, "Let's not tell Dustyn everything I know even though it may very well save his life" thing! I questioned sharply, "Why, what did ya---"  
  
The girl began again, breaking me off, "My mother was just trying to be kind in giving you her bracelets. They're family heirlooms, you know, not cheap and pure gold. You didn't have to explode like that."  
  
I answered sharply, "Those... -things- get me killed! Whadid ya want me ta do?"   
  
She paused, "Well, you could've said 'no, thank you.' "  
  
I started to speak, then stopped. Damn, she had a point... "Yeah, okay, sorry. But you don't know how I feel."  
  
Glimmering blue eyes stared up at me. "Yes I do. You're superstitious!" She accused. "You think those three little bracelets are what get you killed and not the bullet through your chest."  
  
I looked away angrily, not answering. My head started throbbing in remembrance. Damn, I hate memories. What I'd give for a brain wash like one of those James Bond episodes... well, AFTER I kicked Fate's ass with my plan, that is.  
  
She rolled her eyes and rested her elbows on her knees. She sighed slightly, still smirking, answered, "You're such a hypocrite." and rested her cheeks on her hands. Those glittering eyes never left me.  
  
I glared back at her. "Hypocrite?! And you're not? Ya rant on and on about Fate, then ya call ME superstitious! And ya think ya know everythin' an' ya still end up dyin', just like I do!"  
  
She sat up with a start, "I never said that I know everything!"  
  
"Ya sure act like it!" As she glared, I laughed lightly and leaned back onto my arms. "So since we're stuck with each other for a while, how 'bout answerin' some things for me..."  
  
The girl questioned suspiciously, "What kinds of 'things' ?"  
  
I kept up my intense glare despite my slovenly posture, "Oh, I don't know... the weather? What fashions are 'in' this season?" As she tossed me a sarcastic "very funny" glare, I added seriously, "Or how about a few things Marie said to me."  
  
Hilda's expression went blank. She asked in a soft voice. "Marie? Marie who?"  
  
"The girl playin' with the dust: ya just said ya know 'er, so don't even try ta deny it."  
  
She sighed deeply and fell onto her back in a defeated manor, staring up at the tent above. "I'm going to have to tell you the whole story now, aren't I?"  
  
I smiled and nodded. "Yup." I affirmed, then quickly added, "And don't lie or leave anythin' out this time."  
  
From her place on the blankets she sighed, "So where do I start?"  
  
"Try the beginnin'." I decided to point the beginning TO her, getting the questions I wanted answered before she could sneak out of it. "Ya said this isn't a game," I inquired softly, "but it is, isn't it? I'm a pawn, she said."  
  
Hilda hesitantly nodded, the shook her head once. "Well... it started out that way, at least." She swallowed deeply and sighed. "It goes back a long way, Dust, even further back that you think." She a sat up slowly, and her eyes met mine. "There were a lot of years in man's history before the Romans took over, you know."  
  
My own eyes widened slightly. "How far back?"  
  
"... as far back as I can remember." She looked at one of the tent's thin walls and spoke softly. "I cast the curse on myself, originally. We with magic know that you never practice on someone else, it's inhumane. You either try a spell on an animal, or yourself." Hilda paused. "So I did. I saw that I was going to die, and just like you, I thought I could change it, Dustyn, I really did." She refused to meet my eyes.   
  
"So I tried." Her voice cracked a little, "I tried a lot. After years passed and so many lives of losing went by, I couldn't take it anymore. I admitted that Fate had won." Her eyes moved from the wall to the ceiling and she continued. "But it didn't last. I mean, the -spell- did, and that was the problem. Something I did that first time made it so that I see my lives - all of them, every day of every life. The curse I cast on you wasn't nearly so strong, and heavily diluted with practice. ...I would never damn you the way I accidentally damned myself. Why do you think I put a limitation on how long your curse will last?"  
  
She looked at me, then finding it hard to keep up the stare, stared past me and into the wall of the tent behind me. "More lives went by after I gave up, and I-- I began to question myself. I thought-- I thought, maybe only -I- couldn't beat Fate... that, maybe-- maybe -I- was too weak. And maybe someone else could..." She looked at me, abruptly breaking her sentence. "And then I met you. I saw you die at a public execution two days before I would." She sighed. "I couldn't test my theory on someone that was going to live longer than I would, or I'd never find out if it worked. I needed someone that would die before me, but who I thought could still win..." Hilda paused, then looked down at her hands. "So I pulled you to my tent one life a long, long time ago and offered you the chance to live, if you could earn it. ...But you couldn't. Just like I had, you tried and failed every time. Eventually, the curse wore off... but-- but I found something else out about Fate, the hard way.  
  
"Fate can be altered, but not completely changed. The road may be different, but the destination will always be the same. From that life on you ALWAYS ended up in my tent, begging for a chance to change the death we both knew was coming." She laughed quietly and looked back up to me. "You -did- change fate, Dustyn, even if it's not in the way you planned. Before you tried to hold on to one of your lives, we never even met each other, but afterwards," she shrugged lightly, "Now we can't get rid of each other."  
  
I looked away and spat sarcastically. "Yeah, some great change."   
  
She continued quietly. "I tried, Dust. I did. I tried to pull you out of the loop. I didn't want you stuck like I was. One life I never brought you to this tent at all, but you 'got lost' and wandered your way to me. Another time I wouldn't allow my parents to pitch a tent, and we slept out in the rain and the cold for a week. Then you showed up in the spot where our stuff was laid out." She paused, the added with intensity, "One life I just slapped you clear across the cheek, then just kept hitting you until I thought you'd never want to see me again! But, like always, the next life you were back with no memory of anything of the sort, not even a bruise. You're stuck in this just as much as I am, now, and-- and I'm sorry for it, Dustyn."  
  
I kept my glazed over look into the distance. "So she was right. I'm a pawn..." I turned on her and glared. "And you! Ya the other chess player!" I laughed bitterly. "She who moves me about the board." I scoffed. "I'm not even in control! No, you don't understand! It was supposed ta be me against Fate! The final showdown! The all or nothing! ..and I'm a fuckin' pawn?!" I sighed. "Great. Just, just wonder-fucking-full."  
  
After a few minutes of tense silence, I glared defiantly back at the gypsy and laughed. "No. I don't buy it. It's a real nice story ya got, but this time's diff'rent. This time I'm not gonna--"  
  
"Every time is different, Dustyn."  
  
"--die. This time I've gotta--"  
  
She nodded. "You always do... And that's why I initially thought--"  
  
"-- plan that'll work!"  
  
"--you could win, but you can't!"  
  
"But you can't!" The words echoed in my head. My smile flickered and a bit of horror fell into my expression, I began shaking my head rapidly. "No, not this time. NO! Watch me! Watch me, damn it! Watch me win! I-- I'll win! I'm gonna win and-- and ya can't stop me! Ya CAN'T! ...No one can..."  
  
She muttered quietly, "I have no reason to stop you, Dustyn. I WANT you to win. Fate -can- be altered..." Hilda sighed. "But I just don't know how much you can change in only one life." After a moment, she held out her hand expectantly.  
  
I looked up with betrayal clear in my eyes. "What do ya want now? Haven't ya taken enough from me yet?"  
  
"I need your cross."  
  
I shook my head. "I don't have any cross..."  
  
Hilda frowned, eyeing the silver that poked out of the corners of my collar. "What's that then?"  
  
I followed her gaze. "Oh, that? It's just an old chain my mother gave me..." I took off the filthy metal necklace and handed it to her.  
  
The girl took it and stared at it for a minute. She then held up the small silver chain and asked, "This is just a chain... what happened to your cross, Dustyn?"   
  
I glared at her. "What're ya talkin' 'bout? I told ya, I never had a cross."  
  
She frowned. "You did. Think about it. Not your past, your past -lives-, remember them. You had it then."  
  
I thought for a minute, then vaguely remembered her asking what my cross meant. "... I did ha--"  
  
While I was thinking this over, Hilda performed her task of relaying the future using my worn chain, and once again looked into my eyes, waiting for me to ask what she saw.   
  
I took my necklace from her outstretched hand and as I refastened the clasp, I asked, "So what did ya see?"  
  
Straight faced, the girl spoke strongly, "You're going to die tonight."  
  
"No, I won't."  
  
She looked up from where her eyes had rested on her hands, but said nothing.  
  
"I won't!" After a moment, I sighed. "Where did it say?"  
  
She shrugged. "You're going to die in the Police Headquarters."  
  
I frowned in disbelief. "Not out here I won't. We're a half-hour's walk from there, at least. Pro'lly more."  
  
"You should know by now: anything is possible when Fate's involved." Hilda shook her head. "I'm sorry Dustyn. This time, Fate has determined that you will die tonight, in the police station, by a warrior's hand. You don't decide these things."  
  
I sighed as my mind ran through the possibilities. "Now, it's possible that that's where Fate thinks I was supposed ta die if I hadn't altered it the way I had by takin' yous guys out 'ere, but now that I have and I'm not gonna die at all, ya still seein' that 'cause that's what Fate wants, even though it's not really gonna happen--"  
  
She shook her dark head, "Dan..."  
  
Ignoring her, I rambled on, "...because I'm not going to die, Fate or not, I've got it all planned, it's all set out and my plan is flawless, perfect, and NOTHING is interfering with the pl--"  
  
"So by now everyone's heard all the rumor's about the Big Apple's 'favorite' future commissioner Milliard Pececref..."   
  
"...plan." I silenced abruptly at the sound of a radio. Someone in the apartment next to where our alley was had an alarm-clock radio that had just gone off, full blast. The radio talk-show's announcers babbled on about the latest political gossip.  
  
"Sure, who hasn't?" He laughed, "but there's so many goin' 'round lately that they're hard to keep track of!"  
  
Light laughter. "Yeah, but I'm talkin' 'bout the one on everyone's mind right now: -was- he or -wasn't- he involved with those escaped prisoners last night?"  
  
"Well, the facts sure point to 'yes' right about now, that's for sure."  
  
"Oh yeah, what with no alibi AND a policeman's exclusive eye-witness testimony..."  
  
"Police PERSON, Ted. Police PERSON." The two radio voices laughed.  
  
"Oh, of course, Roger, police PERSON's testimony. Well, what with all of that evidence, -plus- the fact that there was no forced entry whatsoever on either of the Headquarters' entrances or the jail ce--" The radio clicked off and its owner muttered curses.  
  
  
My blood froze solid. My heart stopped. I couldn't breathe. This wasn't happening... no, no NO! It couldn't be, it couldn't! My plan, my beautiful plan, my carefully devised plan...  
  
"Dust?" Hilda hesitantly asked.  
  
I shook my head over and over again. "I'm not gonna die tonight. I'm -not- gonna die tonight. I'm not gonna die tonight..."  
  
"You can't run fro--" Hilda paused, and sighed heavily. "Good luck."  
  
Slowly, I sighed out a light, "Yeah." I gathered myself together and stood tall, prepared to leave. "And I'll need it now that I have ta change my plan...."   
  
She raised an eyebrow, "Change your plan?"  
  
"Don't get me wrong, I'm still fightin' Fate. Nothin's stoppin' that, no matter WHAT. It's too late ta turn back, anyway. But," I sighed, "I have ta go back now. I can't just let ya dad take the wrap for somthin' he actually didn't do this time..." I sighed lightly, shaking my head. "When did I get so damn nice... ya know what? I blame you and that curse, I bet there was something in the water ya--"  
  
As I continued with my light rambling, trying to keep my sanity through jokes, Hilda added softly, "Generosity is not something to damn, Dustyn. It's your selfishness that damns you."  
  
My head shot up, "What did ya say?" She looked at me innocently. I glared in suspicion. "What do ya know now? Damn it, there's something ya not tellin' me! There's ALWAYS something that ya--"  
  
"You've had more than one chance to prove that Fate can be changed. This life, or the past ones, you've still died on this day. Everything you've done in your past five lives has been in vain if you don't win now. Best of luck, Dustyn, but choose your path wisely: there will be no 'next time.' "  
  
My demeanor grim, I answered, "I'll remember that, Hilda. But I still have ta go back."  
  
The girl replied sharply, "It's your decision, and you're perpetually stubborn. I can't change that."  
  
My heart was beating faster. Why was I going to go back? What kind of idiot was I?! This was my one chance! And I was losing it! I couldn't believe it... I shook my head and stared at the floor. "I can't lose when I'm this close, I won't."  
  
Hesitantly, Hilda said. "I won't do the curse this time. You won't remember next time whether I do or don't anyway; that's how it works."  
  
I nodded, then walked the short distance to the edge of the tent, pushing back the flaps that made the entrance. I turned back once and called over my shoulder. "You and ya mother stay here. No excuses, got it?" She nodded and I nodded in affirmation. "See ya 'round, Hilda."  
  
She shrugged, her glistening eyes avoiding mine at all costs. "I'll see you next time, Dus." And I heard her mutter as I left, "even though you won't remember me."  
  
When I stepped out of the tent, the sun was high in the sky, burning down on me. Sighing, I walked glumly out of the alley, dragging my heels. My eyes scanned the streets and parking lots quickly, and soon I found my target. A dull gray car that looked more like a heap of metal than a vehicle was parked in a nearby lot. The thing was an old model: the easiest kind to hot-wire. And it looked like crap, too! I bet I could get PAID to steal something so decrepit, just so the owner'd get rid of the thing. Perfect. I wandered over to the car as unobtrusively as possible, then, when I was sure no one was around, I stepped up to the door of the car.  
  
There are three places you can hot-wire a car: under the body, taking off a piece of plastic next to the steering wheel, or under the hood from the inside: above the gas and brake pedals. While the first is the easiest, it's also the most dangerous. Trust me, to be laying under a car, trying to hot-wire it when the owner comes back and starts the engine? Not a pretty picture. Instant road kill, if you're having an unlucky day.   
  
So, choice "c" it was. I unpinned a safety pin that just happened to be on one knee of my jeans, and after a few tricks, the lock clicked, and I was in the car. I slid down the driver's seat and sat on the floor of the car, finding the right wires. I slipped a pocket knife out and was just about to slit the first wire's plastic coating...  
  
...when next to me, the driver-side car door opened. 


	8. New York, New York

Warnings:   
-An evil authoress with a love for cliffhangers is writing a multi-death fic.   
(That's about the worst warning you'll ever see anywhere in FF.net.)  
  
  
Chapter 8: New York, New York.  
  
"...and if I put my fingers here,  
and if I say, 'I love you, Dear!'...  
  
"...It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
  
...When the driver-side car door opened.  
  
"What the hell?!" A tall woman shouted a moment after she sat down in the seat and saw me.   
  
I was trapped. I looked to the side: not a chance of getting out, to the other, the same; I was completely encompassed by one part of the car or another, and now a pair of stiff blue pants blocked my only possible route of escape. "Shit..." I muttered, keeping my head down, thus hiding my face with my messy bangs.   
  
I felt a strong arm grab the front collar of my shirt and haul me out of the car as its owner also stepped out of the car, back into the open air. At the sight of my pocket knife glittering in the midday sun, the woman tossed me down to the ground. I landed flat on my back and when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring up at the woman who stood in a stiff pose, a gun in her hand aimed squarely at my forehead. "Drop the weapon and put ya hands up!" My eyes widened to the size of trash-can lids, and I gaped in utter shock as I recognized the face of the tall woman: Officer Une.  
  
  
"Holy crap!" I shouted, pointing my "unarmed" hand up at her accusingly. "What the hell are YOU doing here?!"  
  
Gun still pointed down at me she spat, "ME?! YOU were trying to steal MY car! Now drop the weapon!"  
  
"...ya car? It's YOUR car?!" Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! SHIT! What's fate got against me, huh? What the hell did I do to make her so pissed off? God damn it, I hate her! I HATE her! She HAS to die! Oh, yes. I'd kill her, I'd KILL the little mongrel! I'd strangle her with my bare hands! I should've killed her when I had the chance! She's evil! She... she's like Satan himself! ...no, Worse! Torture by fire for all eternity I could handle... but this little twerp was beyond demonic! She was just toying with me now! Just messing with my head! Damn, her! Damn her straight to hell where I hope she annoys Satan as much as she's annoying me!  
  
"This is ya last warning before I shoot! Put down ya weapon!"  
  
I rolled my eyes, throwing the tiny little knife (that, at worst, could stab Une's little toe) across the parking lot. "Look, Lady, ya ain't shootin' me, got it? According to the schedule, I've got another two hours, at least. Now. Take me to the station, THEN ya can let the warrior shoot me." I laughted sharply, "'Cause we don't want to prove the little pot of water wrong, now, do we?"  
  
She paused, staring down at me, without answering for a moment, then said, "...crazy or not, ya' a thief, so ya my business. Now cut the crap, stand up an' put ya hands over ya head." I stood, doing as she said. Still, I remained stone-faced. Despite my little outburst, I refused to believe I was going to die. Oh, no no no. Marie could mess with my head, she could mess with my plan, but I wasn't about to give in yet. I wasn't gonna die today, not in that prison, and not anywhere. This was just a... complication. ...A really, annoying, pissy, ugly complication with a bad hairdo, but a complication, nevertheless.   
  
The woman grabbed my hands with more force than necessary and handcuffed them behind my back, then began pushing me into the back-seat of the car with her gun mouth digging into my back. Once I got into the back and the childproof lock was secured (if she thought that would stop me from jumping out, it was an insult), Une sat in the front seat muttering to herself. When she turned draping one arm over the passenger seat to start backing out of the space, I noticed the huge purple bruise under a small Band-Aid on her forehead. I smirked. That must've been from when she hit the ground face-first after Hilda hit her last night. Ah, memories. Before the car started going anywhere, I smirked at Une. "So, how's ya head? Throbbin' in pain, I hope? It really doesn't look so good... in fact, it looks like ya got beat in the face with a shovel..." I laughed, "but I guess it was like that BEFORE ya got hit, too, eh?"  
  
Growling, her eyes lighting up with a fiery mixture of hatred and revenge, she grabbed the gun from her belt loop and yelled back at me, "Why don't ya find out how much it hurts?!" She then reached back and slung the handle of the gun out at me with all her strength, the hard part of it colliding into my forehead with a lovely cracking sound.   
  
Things just kept getting better and better. Nothing like a cracked skull to make my day complete.   
  
I vaguely remember feeling blood as it slowly dripped down my forehead and I collapsed onto the seat, unconscious in a wave of black throbbing pain.  
  
  
"1. Fate's a pissy ten-year old who likes to screw with my life for the fun of it.  
2. Gypsies who can't keep spells to themselves insist on being my friends.  
3. A blue-eyed warrior totting a loaded and/or pointy weapon picks me for target practice every time.  
4. I'm stuck in the middle of it all for no good reason."  
  
Add "5. A PMSing police woman likes smacking me upside the head." to the list of reasons why the world sucks.  
  
  
When I first started waking up, all I saw was a throbbing darkness, slightly red. As I opened my eyes, the bright afternoon light magnified by a car window replaced the red throbbing, making my headache feel like I was stepped on by an elephant. Great feeling to wake up to, I tell ya. After I managed to sit up (not an easy feat with both hands cuffed behind your back and your head feeling as heavy as a watermelon), I gazed out the window. After a few minutes, the putrid building I was oh-so-fond of came into view, and the car parked. As I gazed out the window, I saw the twin doors of the Headquarters swing open, and a lithe boy about my age wearing dark glasses and deep blue and green clothes stepped hurriedly down the steps and out of my view. If I hadn't known better, I would've said it was my good friend, "the warrior..." Okay, I -knew- it was him, but I tried to convince myself otherwise: you know, just because I didn't feel like panicking and making a bigger ass out of myself in front of Une. Besides, no problem, he was LEAVING the building, and I was going in. Distance is good. Very, very good... The more, the better. Three cheers for distance. Hip, hip...  
  
Une made a show of dragging me roughly out of the car, up the steps, and slamming me into the glass doors, thus pushing me onto my face in the center of the room. No one seemed to notice, and the various officers and criminals basically just went on with their business. Can you feel the LOVE?  
  
Surprisingly, the actors weren't there (for reasons only Fate knows and no one else cares), also, the tall blonde woman with twin curls wasn't there. However, in his normal spot was Quatre, shortly behind him were Relena, Dorthy, and Milliard, but Treize was no where to be seen. The four blonde-haired, blue-eyed siblings seemed to have been disputing an argument of some kind that didn't stop just because Une and I burst in. It felt like we had walked in during the middle of a heated conversation between Zeches and Relena, and I was sorry I missed the beginning. Could've missed some juicy stuff, from the sound of it...  
  
"It was just a kiss, Brother! You're so overprotective! I'm not a chi--"  
  
"I'm trying to keep you safe, Lena. He's dangerous. If you--"  
  
Relena shouted back, "I love him! That's all that matters!"  
  
Zechs replied sharply, "It matters that you're fifteen! This is an obsession, an infatuation, and nothing more. You'll get over it in no time."  
  
She interrupted, "I'll nev--"  
  
"You're still growing up. You don't even know what love is yet."  
  
Her glare was intense, daring him to attempt fighting back. "And at twenty-nine, Milliard, you do?"   
  
After a moment, the man looked down, sighing, then their blue eyes met once more. Changing the subject he spoke in an even voice, "I don't want you getting hurt."  
  
She looked away, towards the door, with glossy eyes, "You don't know Hiiro. He would never hurt me."  
  
Frustrated, Zechs scolded back, "I know his type. And if he lays so much as another finger on you, I'll--"  
  
"You'll what?" She shouted back, "Have him arrested for trespassing on Pececref property?!"  
  
"Excuse me." All eyes darted over to Une.  
  
By this time, Une had picked me off the floor, and was holding me harshly by the arm as she broke in, "Sorry to interrupt the family ...dispute," It was so obvious she was hiding a smirk as she glanced between Relena and Zeches. "But I'm looking for Sergeant Tres. Have any of you seen him?" She pushed me forward a bit, staring poignantly at Zeches. "This boy is a known criminal and needs to be dealt with."   
  
Dorothy, Quatre, and Zeches' eyes all got a little wider, and Relena, unaffected, replied curtly, "In his office, I believe."   
  
Une smirked, "Thank you. Excuse me." And the woman began pushing me toward one of the offices, straight through the small group of people.  
  
Relena replied to Une, while glaring at Zeches, "No, that's quite all right. I was just leaving anyway," and stormed out, her long, honey-colored hair flying behind her like a shredded scarf in the wind.  
  
Zeches called after her in a warning tone, "Lena!" But made no attempt to chase. After she was gone with a slam of the glass door, he sighed heavily. I guess his day wasn't goin' much better than mine. Sucks for him. I wonder if Hilda cursed HIM too? Heh, I wouldn't put it past her...  
  
Dorthy looked up at Zeches, then started for the door. "I'll watch out for her." She called without glancing back. Quatre smiled politely and thanked her, and that's the last I heard before I was pulled into a small office, a heavy door swinging shut behind me.  
  
I shrugged Une's hand off my arm and glared up at her. She pushed me over to the desk, and then shoved me backwards into a small folding chair. "Mr. Tres, I have a car thief here who--"  
  
"I'm busy, Lady Un." From behind the desk, Treize was working on various papers, his head tilted down to concentration. Without looking up, he replied, "Kindly escort him to a waiting room and I'll be with you both in a few minutes."  
  
Softly, and with a sinister smirk of superiority, she added, "He's also the one who helped the gypsies escape."  
  
With that, Tres looked up immediately. "Really?" He asked, raising a thin, golden eyebrow. He thought for a moment, then added. "Let's take him in for questioning, then."  
  
Quatre stepped into the room after knocking lightly. "Excuse me, Lady Un, Sergeant Tres..."   
  
"What?" Uma growled softly under her breath. She began to pull me out of the chair and grabbed my arm once more. Damn police officer. My head was still bleeding lightly and my arm was covered in fresh red bruises all because of her.   
  
"I'm sorry, I was just curious as to what crime he committed." Quatre cocked his head lightly in question, fingers still gripping the brass doorknob for a possible quick escape.  
  
"What business is it of yours?" Une spat back. Wow, she's charming. No wonder Treize calls her "Lady." ...excuse me while I go throw up.  
  
Quatre continued softly, "Well, Dotty and I, we know this boy... at least we've held conversation with him... and he didn't sound like a criminal, but merely a polite person who happened to fall on unlucky times. So, if it's not a bother, I'd like to know what he did."  
  
Uma fumbled over words for a minute, before stating, "Car thief. He tried ta steal my car when I skillfully caught 'im." She declared triumphantly.  
  
The blonde boy tried not to smirk as he questioned doubtfully, "...YOUR car, Ms. Un?" He laughed slightly, unable to hold it back.  
  
Une's lip curled lightly. "Yes, MY car. Is there a -problem- with that, Calvin?"  
  
The boy shrugged passively, "Nothing, really, it's just... why would he steal your car when there are so many... newer... ones around?"  
  
Un once again fumbled for words, then finally shouted, "Well how should I know? I don't know how a thief thinks!"  
  
The two kept talking, and, frankly, they weren't saying anything interesting, so my mind began to wander. Maybe I was getting hit on the head too much... Anyway, as my mind wandered, my eyes scanned the room. Wall... some diploma thing... boring portrait... large bookshelf... wall... another wall.. desk... messy papers with some mugshots on them.... cup of coffee... Treize's hands... Trieze's tie... when a tiny glitter of silver metal caught my eye. My eyes went wide. I gasped and shouted, "My cross!" and attempted to grab it back from him. I ducked out of Une's grasp, and jumped over my arms (in a neat little show of flexibility that comes in handy now and then) so that my cuffed hands were in front of me. As I lunged at Treize and latched tightly to the silver pin on his tie, Une, in response to my attack, took her gun once again by the barrel and slammed the handle across the back of my head. I swear, that woman will pay for my medical bills when I get a concussion from all this smacking around!   
  
I saw the world spin and black spots jumped out of nowhere into my vision. The desk sped up to meet my face and everything went black as I slid onto the floor. My last thoughts were of determination as I tightened my grip on the tiny scrap of fabric and silver cross in my possession. Even while unconscious, I couldn't let go of my cross, I wouldn't lose it again. I vaguely saw Quatre run over to help me, and Une abandoned my falling body to check on Treize. The all-too-familiar blackness crept into my vision from the floor as my eyes closed and the noise around me blurred and echoed as if far away. I swear I heard Treize whisper...  
  
"If I may suggest, Lady Un..."  
  
  
I woke from the throbbing black and red darkness to the sound of dripping water of some unknown source. My head felt like a soft orange that had been dropped one too many times, and the world spun before my eyes. Owww. The dripping water didn't help. Rubbing gently the throbbing lump on the back of my skull, I slowly sat up straight. When the memories of what had happened began coming back, my hand flew up in front of my face and I slowly opened my palm. To my utter shock and delight, the cross was still in my hand (though my palm was dented in four points, and bleeding slightly, not to mention that four small red bruises were forming). But who cared? My cross! I had my cross back!  
  
I can't really explain it, but it was like a piece of me, and my history, was missing without that cross around my neck. I sighed in contentment, forgetting for a second the ache of my head. I ripped the pin backing off of my now dented, tarnished, and bloody cross, and took the chain from around my neck. I smiled as I threaded the tiny loops together, and re-clasped it around my neck. The small weight resting over my heart was worth the headache. For the first time in a week, I felt myself genuinely smile as the cool metal pressed into my warm chest.   
  
Then the memories hit me. This cell.. again, the Headquarters, the foretelling of my future... After I left the cell, I was going to be shot by Blue Eyes before I could leave the building. No! I hadn't accepted that I was going to die. Understandably so, since I didn't exactly -want- to, but still, I really believed it. I couldn't die... I had a plan. Zeches wouldn't let me die, I helped him! And my future wouldn't change with my next life, and I'd forget, and I'd have to start at the beginning, and I'd have to die again, and there'd be so much pain, such horrible, horrible pain, and no! No. The future isn't written in stone; I could still change it, I knew I could! It was never too late! And next time... there wasn't a next time! Because THIS time, I would win! I'd live, I'd survive this, once and for all. I knew it. After all,  
  
I had to. This was my last chance...  
  
When I finally came out of my thoughts, I noticed that Quatre was watching me from a chair a short distance from my cell. I raised an eyebrow. "What're ya doin' here?"  
  
He shook his golden head lightly and muttered, "Nothing, just..." The boy paused, looking at his hands, then back up at me. "Why?"   
  
One of my hands absent-mindedly wandered up to my neck, and I threaded the chain and cross through my fingers, twisting them and setting them back. It was mine again. Besides my clothes and my hair, it was the only thing that was truly -mine-. And I finally had it back. "Why what?"  
  
The crystal blue eyes looked up. "Why'd you steal Officer Un's car?" When I didn't answer, he continued. "I spoke with Dotty. She said you tried to help her. And from when I saw you, I knew that you wouldn't have."  
  
The boy didn't move from his seat. I waited for a minute, thinking, but when I only received silence, I asked, "How'd ya figure that?"  
  
Mulling this over for a moment, the blonde's right hand gripped his upper left arm and he shrugged, avoiding eye contact with me. "I don't see it in you..."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "What about the new Comish'? What's -he- got ta say about me?"  
  
Quatre shook his golden head, "I haven't spoken with Milliard. I think he's too busy dealing with the legalities of being promoted, not to mention Lena." He looked back up at me. "I don't believe you stole Un's car because you just wanted to take a joyride, it doesn't make sense. You weren't awake, though, so I couldn't ask you, and I decided to sit and wait. It was the least I could do for you."   
  
Grinning innocently, I muttered, "Well, if ya wanted ta do more, like, oh, I dunno, get ya brother ta pardon me and let me outta this cell, that'd be nice, too." Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying.  
  
He looked curiously at me, "How did you know Milliard's my brother?"  
  
"Uh," I stuttered a bit, "...you two look alike. Yeah, ya got the whole blonde-haired blue eyes thing goin'."   
  
He smiled lightly, "Oh." Then his expression fell once more. "So why -did- you steal her car?"  
  
"What is this, an interrogation?" I countered. "Ya're here for Tres, aren't ya?"  
  
Quatre sighed in slight frustration, "No, nothing of the kind..."  
  
"Then why do you want to know?"  
  
Laughing softly, he replied, "Curiosity, I guess."  
  
"Ya know," I crossed my arms, "Curiosity could get ya killed, Cat. Gotta watch out for fast movin' cars and crazy drivers."  
  
"I know... and I'm not normally so rash, but..." he trailed off as his eyes lowered, then met mine once more. "I don't know why, but I feel like you're innocent. I have no reason to, but I think that if you stole Officer Un's car, then you must have had a valid reason." He sighed, "Of course, they'll never trust my judgment."  
  
I was confused with his instinct. Maybe... "Ya don't happen to know if any gypsies cursed ya so ya remember stuff from past lives, do ya?"   
  
Quatre's eyes widened. "What?!"  
  
I laughed nervously, "Uh, nothing. Nothing, Forget I said it." I looked down, then up at the blonde from the corner of my eye. He leaned back in his chair once more and sighed. Okay, it sounds like I was just being difficult in not giving him any straight answers, but I wasn't! I mean, sure, I -could've- told him that I stole Une's car so that I could get here to keep Zeches and his gypsy "family" safe, but I think that might... yep. That would've been the stupidest thing I'd've done all day. That would've been like wearing a bulls eye, walking over to the warrior, standing still, and shouting "Shoot me!"  
  
Quatre hesitantly finished, "...you're not going to tell me, are you?" I shook my head. The boy smiled, "I respect that. Just don't get yourself into trouble without good reason."  
  
I smiled slightly with him, "I've got a pretty damn good reason, Quatre."  
  
"Calvin." He corrected.  
  
"Yeah, Quat, Cal, whatever." I laughed, "besides, there's not too much hell I can stir up in here." At that moment in my speech, Lady Une and came in. "Oh, look! Speak of the devil."  
  
He laughed lightly, then frowned at his own rude behavior. He stood and nodded to Une. "Yes, Miss Un?"  
  
"Visiting hours're over, kid. We're clearin' out the place."  
  
I interrupted, "What'da ya mean, 'clearin' ' out? Is it that late?" I swear it was only five or six in the evening... tops.  
  
Quatre turned and answered, "Most of the officers go off shift at six, and the station is locked. The night shift, though, starts at 11, and that's when everyone but the night watchmen leaves."  
  
"Oh..." I nodded, confused. Wait... so I wasn't being taken somewhere to be executed? That's... well, I didn't know what to think of it. It was good: no death! But bad: no talking to Milliard about getting me out of there before I was shot by a breathing shadow...  
  
Quatre nodded to me, said "Good-bye, Dustyn." And was escorted out by Une. The door clanged shut behind them with a metallic bang, and my cell and those adjacent to me were thrown into a sea of darkness as the lights flickered out, one by one.  
  
In the dark, before my eyes had time to adjust, I felt my heart started pounding. My breathing became a bit faster, and that ever-present dripping of water tapped on in a dull rhythm of: plink. Plink. Plink. Plink.  
  
Darkness. Anything could be there. I'm not talking about monsters or goblins, I'm talking about a pair of blue eyes made of liquid fire, icy blue moving in twin shiny orbs like liquid mercury, that shoots daggers as sharp as pins into my flesh. At the thought, tiny chills ran across my spine and into the nape of my neck, and hundreds of small goose bumps formed on my skin.  
  
  
The Coliseum was brightly lit: torches lined every crevice, the majority of the crowd was dressed in clean, reflective white, and the sky was ablaze with fiery reds, golds, and purples.  
  
The Tournament may have been clouded with dust, but the glare off of polished armor filled the air, casting ghosts of white light into every direction. As the sun set, the white ghosts turned into peaches and yellows, and the dying sunlight filtered through the dust particles and onto my upturned face.  
  
The Cathedral? Notre Dame was the brightest of them all. There were torches and candles that left haunting highlights on the cool stone floor, and the melting sky shone through the intricate stained-glass windows, casting their carefully crafted scenes of martyrs and saints in ghastly blobs of light on the pews and isles. But despite all this, the warmest light was from the faces of the statues: The Holy Mother and Child smiling at me without emotion, filling me with guilt, forgiveness, and love; that's warmth no light bulb can provide.  
  
Even in the West there was the warm heat of a summer's night falling.  
  
But guess where I was? In a cold, dank jail cell in the dark. Absolute, unyielding darkness. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't afraid of the dark. No, no no, no. I had much -worse- things to be afraid of: like Fate. Dying. Death. And Hell. Hell, yes, I had a right to be scared, okay?! Two steps in any direction and I could've found a gun in my mouth, and I've already got enough lead in my daily diet, thank you...  
  
Did God hate me? Everyone else seemed to, but did God? Did God even care? Or even exist? I mean, I used to know that God existed, but I also knew that Fate wasn't real. Now I knew that Fate DID exist... so did God? It was like a game with whoever the hell's up there: "How can I totally screw with Dustyn's mind and disprove one of his beliefs today?" And now I finally had Milliard on my side, but I was locked in a jail cell, waiting to die, and Une, Treize, AND the warrior all wanted to kill me! I didn't know if I could take any more. ...and I STILL didn't understand it. Why would any of them want me dead? What did I do that was so wrong? Why did I deserve any of this?! But hey, what's new? I didn't understand anything.   
-Especially Fate.-  
  
The whole room was perfectly silent. Not a single other person occupied the cells near mine, or if they did, they were all asleep... or messing with my head. But their silence was my solace: no laughing, no hissing, no booing, no cheering. Just silence. Well, at least I'd be able to hear the guy before he shot me... But the waiting was slowly devouring me... my ears were perked, and my mind began snapping at any little rustle of the wind or squeaking of a rat. Part of me just wanted to get it over with. That part just wanted the noise to stop, to just be back in that silent church with the air smelling of incense and melted wax, and the light fading through dusty stained-glass windows. Peaceful silence, not this tense musty air of a dank cell. I didn't want to be here, but I -really- didn't want to die.  
  
It was odd, but some time in my listening, my mind wandered a bit. Where were all of the people that normally saw me die? Where was Quatre, (or Calvin or whoever)? What about his mother and his two blonde sisters? Where were the actors? Hell, even Une and Treize weren't here... and what about Hilda, her mother, and Zeches? They seemed like people that should see me die, right? And especially Marie! Wouldn't that twerp want to watch her plan in action? Odd that none of them were here...  
  
Not that I WANTED them to watch me die... I didn't want to look at them, anyone. I didn't need their pity or their hate. Still, in each of my lives, they were always watching me, like stars over my head, never moving and always glaring down... A second after this thought, my heart skipped a beat at the sound of a small tapping noise, like metal on metal. Then, there was silence. My head remained down for a second, and my hand fumbled across my chest, finding my cross and gripping it tightly.  
  
Enter the warrior. Down stage, center.  
  
I didn't want to die. Anyone who -wants- to die, doesn't know what they're in for - believe me. Eternal silence and peace or not, dying sucks, and I wasn't about to change my mind about it. End of all your problems? Yeah, right. Ever since I learned the truth about dying, I've only gained more problems to deal with. I mean, come on! I was fifteen! I didn't need this shit!  
  
No, I had to stop thinking like that.. I had to stop thinking about what was coming... the pain and another life and more pa.... stop. Just stop thinking. If I kept thinking like that, I would've broken down into a quivering mass... again. No. I just had to blank out my mind entirely.... peaceful darkness... and silence. I still didn't lift my head.  
  
The thin figure, cloaked in black, tapped his gun lightly once more against the bars of my cell. I still didn't look up, the grip on my necklace tightening slightly. The tapping grew in intensity as its owner became frustrated. Hesitantly, I looked up. The single window in the room happened to be behind him, and the dull light silhouetted his form, casting his entire being into shadows so that I couldn't make out his features, except for a small glint of metal in his upraised hand. No doubt about it, he was my killer.   
  
My killer.   
  
"I'm going to die. This is it, the last time. I won't remember next time, I lost my chance. All this work, for nothing, Nothing!" The words running through my head, I began numbly whispering to myself, "Nothin', nothin', nothin'..."  
  
The warrior walked slowly toward me: his gun hand extending through the bars until the cold metal of the weapon was inches from my forehead. The room, the warrior, and I shared a collective silence. Feeling the metal even before in made contact with my hot, sweaty skin, I jumped, scooting backwards until my back hit the wall, and even then, trying to push myself further back. I silently told my heart to stop pounding, I willed the sweat on my forehead to cease, I prayed my hands would stop shaking, and I told my mind to just fucking shut up! But no one ever listens to me - not even myself. The boy paused when his shoulder hit the bars and cast a glance to his left and right to see if anyone else was around. As he turned, the light silhouetted his profile, and I affirmed what I already knew: it was the man who had killed me in every one of my past lives. Confirming our isolated condition, the boy turned back to me.  
  
My eyes remained sharply focused on the black expanse where I figured his face to be, and I concentrated on thinking. 'You're not dead yet. This isn't over yet. Now think, think! Use what you know! You know so much about this damn town, use it! THINK!" But all my mind seemed to focus on was, "oh, God, I don't want to die!"  
  
As my mind began breaking itself down and the internal battle for control raged on, the boy with the gun made no motion. There he stood, his face made expressionless by the shadowy darkness, and there I sat, in fearful anticipation, as I waited for this guy to shoot me, wondering what was taking him so long. When he finally had enough of whatever he was waiting for/thinking, he asked softly, "Dustyn Maxwel?"   
  
There in his speech, he paused. Of course I knew what the pause meant, but I couldn't answer. "Yeah, that's me. Not what ya were expectin', 'm I? A pathetic little thief scared a dyin'. Well, whaddid ya expect?!" Unbeknownst to myself, I HAD actually spoken my thoughts out loud, so I was even more shocked to hear an actual response.  
  
"Someone bigger."  
  
I looked up in shock, then laughed lightly, almost in relief. "Sorry ta disappoint ya. Didn't get enough milk as a kid." (Joking is definitely my favorite defense-mechanism.) I was even more shocked as I saw the glint of metal disappear as the gun lowered. I blinked in confusion, my hand still wrapped around my cross, afraid to get my hopes up. No matter what he did, I was going to die. He was going to kill me. I knew it: it's the only absolute thing I'd known my entire life. But still, a guy can hope.  
  
"What did you do?" I felt those steaming blue eyes burning into mine, even though I couldn't see them. But I didn't feel the same glare in them, the same killer-instinct. He was... talking to me. Maybe this was my lucky day? Maybe? Yeah, with MY luck? Give me a break!  
  
"Do?" I laughed bitterly. "Whadid I do? Hm, let's see... I stole a bracelet, got cursed by a gypsy, tried ta be a nice guy anyway and help said gypsy outta a sticky situation, stole a car ta help a guy related ta said gypsy, got caught, and was tossed inta 'ere - notice how nonna that was my fault. Now I've got you, blue eyes, on my case, and I got no clue what I did ta get ya so pissed! Have we even met before in this life?!"  
  
He paused for a moment, taking in everything I had said, the replied softly, "No, we haven't."  
  
"Ya see?! That's what I thought!" We continued to stand/sit there in silence for a minute as his mind ran through... whatever he was thinking about, and as I waited for him to say something. Gathering a bit of courage, my eyes clashed with his in challenge. Eyes unwavering, I asked. "What DID I do to ya? Why do ya feel I deserve ta die?" At first there was no response, and I asked again, "Well?!"  
  
I could almost feel him narrow his eyes. "Why not."  
  
What the hell kind of response was that?! What a heartless stone! "Why not?! Why not?!" I stood up, my hand falling from my cross as I lost all fear in anger. "That's why I'm gonna get shot?! Because 'why not?' !"  
  
"You're going to get shot faster if you don't shut up."  
  
I laughed bitterly. "Oh yeah, 'cause Heaven forbid I should wake up the rats with my shoutin'." I continued glaring at the dark figure. " 'Why not.' I can't believe ya. What kinda helluva reason is that to kill a guy?! Do you get some sick pleasure outta watchin' me suffer?!"  
  
"No..."  
  
"Then tell me why ya gonna kill me!" He paused, the silence reigning for a moment. Formulating a bit of a plan, I continued, "Well, why not tell me, huh? 'Cause ya gonna kill me, an I'm gonna die anyway, so who cares?" I paused, desperation seeping into my voice, "But I gotta know. I gotta know why." I sighed, my eyes falling from the warrior to the dusty ground. I slid down the wall until I sat down in the dust. The killer was silent and for a moment, and I was beginning to think that I wouldn't get an answer.  
  
But just as I was about to give up hope and begin rambling about how much this would suck, he spoke one word that nearly stopped my heart. "Tres."  
  
My head shot up and I muttered the word questioningly. It all began making sense in my mind... how he always looked over at Treize before killing me, how Treize always nodded. Why hadn't I realized it sooner?! Okay, for the first few lives I thought he was looking at Quatre, and then later in Paris I only saw two hooded figures point to me... Une. She was in on it. It was the two of them! They both hated me because I was helping the gypsies and Milliard, I was just in their way... of course they would be the ones to hire this guy! It made perfect sense! But then, my thinking slowed and I saw the warrior looking off to the side. "But why you?"  
  
He turned back to me, not saying anything. "Why would ya listen ta that scum bag? There are easier, and cleaner, ways of gettin' money than killin' innocent people, trust me. Look, whatever Tres's payin' ya, don't kill me and I'll get ya double, I swear! And it's not sa hard ta steal cars or wallets, and people'll miss them a LOT less than they'll miss their lives! Please!" My pathetic bargaining and pleading was interrupted by a sharp response.   
  
"He's not paying me."  
  
...Okay, now I was really confused. "Then, wh--"  
  
I saw the metal raise once more as his gun arm went ridged, the barrel of the weapon aimed straight for my head, "I don't have time for this."  
  
I began shaking a bit, my hand once again raking across my chest until the chain of my cross became entangled in my fingers. My breathing sped up. "What's a few minutes more? Please, I have ta know!"  
  
"No."  
  
I could almost see the gunfighter's expression in my mind: a look of emptiness without fear or pity. He wasn't human. A human couldn't be so inhumane, so uncaring. No real human likes watching another person die, never mind being the one to kill him. Sure, when two people duel, it's easy to pretend it's all a game, and the loser gets what he supposedly deserves, but just outright shooting a stranger because someone told you to? No human could do that. When he'd pull that trigger and kill me, he wouldn't cry and he wouldn't laugh; he'd just go on with his life like nothing had happened, every time losing a bit of humanity.  
  
How many people had he killed before me?  
  
I swallowed deeply, my fingers woven deeply into my chain as I clutched my cross like a lifeline. As I waited for the final shot, I began rambling off any possible reasons why he would kill me for Treize, gauging his reaction. "Okay, not money then what?" Silence. "Uh, does he take care a ya? Like give ya food an shelter an stuff?" No response, the gun remained level with my head. "No?" I laughed nervously "All right, well then, ya don't wanna tell me, I can figure it out... uh, political power? That's what Tres wants, at least..." Again no response, not even a twitch. I began panicking a bit, my mind racing for reasons. "Are ya related ta him?" A small sigh as he began getting frustrated, but otherwise there was no response. "Seems like everyone 'round here's related..." I bagan rambling as I quickly searched my mind for any other possible explinations. "Is he blackmailin' ya?" The glint of light off the metal shook a bit as he tightened the grip on the gun.  
  
My eyes widened. "He is?! That's why ya gonna kill me!?"  
  
I heard him stutter a bit, "It's not your business."  
  
Heart pounding even faster, I could feel four tiny drops of blood pooling in my palm as my cross reopened the old wounds. "It's my life on the line, sa damn straight it's my business! Why's he blackmailin' ya? Does he have pictures or information or a letter or somethin'? What about? Does it have to do with you an someone else, too?"  
  
The safety clicked off. Irritated, almost nervous, his voice replied, "I don't have time for this..."  
  
"Don't pull that shit, ya got all night!" I shouted back. My heart pounding, and adrenaline pumping. "It does, doesn't it?! Who? Not Tres, an not Un, an Milliard has no reason to kill me..." I could sense, almost feel his finger tightening on the trigger. "Dotty? What was-- Triton? Calvin! No?" My mind flashed through every person I had seen and met in the past two days, searching for names, when, like a bullet to the head, it hit me. "Lena?" The warrior's hand jerked at the mention of her name and the gun fired with a loud crack.  
  
I could feel the blood rushing to my head and the room began spinning, my hand fell limply from my cross as I fell to the floor in a heap, feeling only a hot thick blackness surrounding me and pushing in on me from all sides. The echoes of the gun shot slowly faded away, then everything was still and silent once more.  
  
I finally knew.   
  
  
His name was Hiiro. 


	9. It's a Hell of a Town

A/N  
- Yes, it's finally done! Sorry it took so long, but I've been having a bad year... But think of it this way: no more waiting for updates! Praise the Lord!   
- *cough* Enjoy.  
  
  
Warnings:   
-There is nothing left to warn you about: by now it's all been done (pardon the pun).  
  
  
Chapter 9: It's a Hell of a Town  
  
"...and if I play the same three chords,  
will you just yawn and say...  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been done before..."  
  
  
Hiiro.  
  
The name just kept running through my head as I lay there in the black mist. I mean, of all the things to think about after being shot but the name of the guy who shot you! And I just couldn't get the damn name out of my head. After the initial blow, I could hear his voice saying something, but it echoed over itself and the meaning of the words was lost. Then a loud thum, thum, thum, thum, thum, then everything was still. There was nothing after that for a long while; my head was throbbing in a dull rhythm, my heart pounding to the same beat. Everything was hot, clouded, and silent, and in the thick atmosphere I felt secluded, lost, and utterly alone. The black air surrounding me only aided this feeling, and my heart pounding in my chest and head was my only company.  
  
  
...My heart was beating?   
  
My eyes snapped open as I sat up with a start, my hand flying to my head. I lowered my hand and gazed at it with shock and fear, searching my fingertips, and finding them drenched in sticky warm blood. I screamed without realizing it and didn't stop until something slapped against the side of my face, hard. After a moment of panting, I finally regained my senses enough to see who had hit me: Hilda. After seeing her, I began screaming again, but she only rolled her eyes in response. Eventually, my screams died into more sensible phrases. "What the hell are YOU doin' 'ere?! That's it, I'm SO in Hell! I always knew ya were Satan, I knew it! OhmaGawd, ohmaGawd, ohmaGawd!"  
  
"Oh get over it, Dustyn! You're not dead!" She smiled at the words. "The bullet didn't even hit you."  
  
Still panting, I looked at my bloody hand then held it up to her face. "What's this, huh? It's blood! Blood! I'm bleedin' fa Chissake! Ya said it didn't hit me! Explain that, then!"  
  
With a hint of a smirk, she grabbed the cross around my neck. She then turned both my hand, and cross, towards me, showing how the four points of my cross lined up exactly with four tiny cuts in my palm. I put my other hand to my head and felt around through my hair, but was shocked to find no blood and no holes. Well, shocked in the best possible way, mind you. Other than a bloody hand, I was completely fine. "Bu-- wha-- how?!" Hey, I'd like to see YOU make coherent words if you were in my situation, so don't start.  
  
She laughed once shortly. "I told you, the bullet didn't even hit you. It missed by an inch, at least, and hit the wall behind. If it had hit you, you wouldn't be here right now."  
  
I stared at my one clean hand in confusion. "But, I swear I felt--"  
  
"You fainted." She laughed. "A regular hero, I tell you. Such courage in the face of danger."  
  
"Hero?" I looked around at my surroundings frantically only to find that I wasn't in my prison cell at all. I was in a clean office room sitting on a gray couch. Across the room from me was a desk, and sitting there, working on paperwork was Zeches. He looked up for a second, then once again bowed his head and kept working. A short distance from where I was sitting was an empty chair, and sitting on the couch next to me was Hilda, smirking like a cat. "Where're we? What happened?" I glanced around the room, my eyes resting on the figure at the desk.  
  
Feeling my eyes once again on him, Zeches lifted his head. He raised an eyebrow at the question, but answered solemnly, "In my office. An attempt was made on your life. I heard the commotion, then the gun shot, and when I found you, you were unconscious in your cell. I brought you here and, shortly after, Helene and Lu arrived."  
  
I looked over and shouted at Hilda (who was still smirking triumphantly at me). "I thought I told ya ta stay put!" She shrugged. I looked back down at my hands, then once again ran the clean one through my hair in a nervous way. "Sa I'm not dead? Really not dead? Wait, how'm I not dead?" Then I stared at Hilda with shock, shouting in accusation, "Ya said I was gonna die!"  
  
She continued smirking at me and answered plainly, "I lied."  
  
My mouth nearly dropped to the floor. "Ya... you... whadda ya mean ya lied?! Ya can't lie! That's not.. that... I mean... ah!" I nearly tore my hair out with frustration. Have I mentioned lately how much I hate gypsies? I have? Well not nearly enough, then. I hate gypsies. I goddamn hate them! It's like they live just to fuck around with your life! I bet she got some sick pleasure out of all of this!  
  
"Yesterday, when I read your fortune, I didn't see anything in that bowl of water." She shrugged again as if it weren't anything important. "There was just nothing there (well, nothing but water and a silver chain). It didn't say where you would die, so I made it up." Again, she said it as if it were no fucking deal. I can't believe her. "I guess it was just... fate... that I happened to name the exact place you were almost killed in."  
  
I stared at her in shock. "Ya muth-- Why didn't ya just tell me!? I almost 'ad a 'eartattack! Y'almost killed me! What kinda evil witch 're ya?!"  
  
Shocked expression, she retorted "Witch?! It was for your own good!" I muttered the contrary, but she continued. "I know you, Dustyn, and if I had told you the truth, you would've gotten over confident and blown it for sure."  
  
"Well," I started, "Ya don't know that!" She gave me "a look" and I muttered. "Well, ya don't." After a moment of replaying my near-death experience over in y head to see what I could've done had Hilda told the goddamn truth for once, I looked up with a start, my eyes roaming quickly around the room. "Wait, I need ta talk ta Lena. Soon as possible. Preferably sooner than possible, if that's possible. In fact, now'd be good. Can I talk to 'er now?"  
  
At this, Zeches looked up and eyed me warily, like a wolf deciding whether or not to strike at an unsuspecting deer. "What for?"  
  
"Uh..." I said hesitantly, "It's a kinda personal thing for 'er, I think... ya know, something she might wanna talk 'bout in private. That sorta--"  
  
The man's glare deepened and he went into defense/kill mode. "What for." He repeated, an icy edge in his tone.  
  
I laughed nervously. "It's nothin, bad, I swear! I just really really gotta speak with 'er."  
  
Zeches' glare remained steady, but Hilda butted in (for once I was grateful) and convinced him to at least call Lena up and ask. I smiled my thanks and the gypsy girl just smirked and shrugged. I tell you, all that smirking and shrugging was really starting to piss me off, though. Smirk, shrug, smirk, shrug. She's got some kind of superiority complex thing going, or something. I hope her shoulders fall off one day.  
  
For the next few minutes, we all sat in utter, horrible silence. I kept running my hands through my hair and taking my own pulse, Zeches kept glaring at me, looking down at his paperwork, then glaring at me again every two seconds (really! Every two seconds! I checked my watch!), and the gypsy girl just kept smirking at me like a damned Cheshire cat. Maybe she was one in a past life; she certainly is both crazy and annoying enough. Well, after what seemed like forever, we all looked up at the sound of a bell and the door gliding open. I jumped up, and dashed through the doors and into the main lobby, Zeches and Hilda close at my heels. I couldn't help but smile as I met Lena (again). What can I say? Don't die when you're destined to and suddenly smiling spontaneously doesn't sound so crazy, really. (Plus with my present company, I was glad to talk to ANYONE else.)  
  
She looked past me and addressed her brother, "You wanted to speak with me, Brother?" The girl folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head. Apparently, she was still a bit upset about the argument they'd had the day before. Zeches didn't look all that happy, either, but he never does. Instead of answering (because that would've been the easy, sensible thing to do), Zeches just tossed a glare at me and waited for me to say something. Gee, thanks for the introduction.  
  
"Lena?" I asked hopefully, knowing full well that's who she was, but I had to confirm it anyway. I don't know, but it just didn't sound appropriate to start the conversation with, "Hi, ya boyfriend just tried ta kill me." Yeah, 'cause that would've went over well with the whole family.  
  
"Yes," She said hesitantly, dropping her arms to her side. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"  
  
"No, not really." I replied frankly, "But I really gotta speak with--" I looked over at Zeches for a second, then back to Lena. "Uh, can we go in the next room er somthin'?"  
  
Taking a precautionary step backwards away from me, she asked suspiciously, "Why? What do you what to talk about?"  
  
I paused at that, thinking of how to respond with Zeches in the room. "Uh... well, it's kind of, ya know, private." I tried to motion my eyes from her to Zeches, but if she caught my look, she was still too suspicious to go anywhere with me. Man, people now a days are so untrusting, don't you think? I mean, I'm only a thief, in a prison, with a bloody hand, and a complete stranger asking to go into a separate room with her! It's not like I was asking her to marry me or anything.  
  
"What do you mean, 'private' ?"  
  
I sighed heavily. She wasn't making this any easier. If I hadn't known better, I'd've thought she WANTED me to talk about her and blue eyes in front of Zeches! I opened my mouth to argue once more when a bell chimed. All eyes in the room turned to the open door and the figure that had just walked in. Upon recognizing who had just entered, my mouth nearly dropped to the floor and my eyes went wide. Of all people to come through that door! I shouted, "Holy shit!" and ducked behind the person closest to me: which happened to be Hilda.  
  
At my exclamation, I managed to catch the warr-- I mean, Hiiro's attention. Apparently he was just as happy to see me as I was to see him, since he immediately pulled out a gun from God-knows-where and aimed at me. In a chain reaction, Zeches then pulled out HIS gun from under that trench coat that he never takes off and aimed it at Hiiro. As for me, I hid behind Hilda so that my killer didn't have a clear shot. What?! You would've done the same! And better her getting shot than me. In fact, I wish he HAD shot at me just to kill HER in the process! "Dustyn! Get off of me!"   
  
Ignoring her, I peered around Hilda's shoulder at Blue Eyes. "Go 'way! I'm not gonna die, the pot 'a water said so!"  
  
I tell you, everyone in the room gave me the strangest looks at that... Then Zeches shouted at Hiiro, "Put the weapon down!"  
  
Ignoring us both, Hiiro stepped forward (which caused me to step, and pull Hilda, backward) until he was even with Lena. Still glaring at me from over the barrel of the gun, he asked her, "Are you all right?"  
  
Oh, I'm so glad he's got his priorities straight. You know, everything was JUST fine until he walked in and pulled a gun on me. As if I was going to touch his girlfriend anyway! I just wanted to talk to her, damn it! But nothing goes my way, ever. I swear, I have the worst luck!  
  
"Hiiro! What do you think you are doing?! Put the gun down!" Lena grabbed his arm and attempted to lower it, but to no avail. Well, at least she tried.   
  
Still not looking in her direction (He was too busy glaring at me. It was weird, he didn't even blink! Ten minutes straight of not blinking. Who can go ten minutes without blinking?! The guy's not human, I tell you.), he asked, "What's he doing here?"  
  
Poking my head from around Hilda's shouder, I happily answered for Lena, "Whut'm -I- doin' 'ere?! I was taken inta custody by a police officer. This's Police 'eadquarters. Now whaddaya THINK I'm doin' 'ere?!"  
  
Seeing the glare intensify, I quickly ducked back behind Hilda, who sighed in response. "I swear, Dustyn--"  
  
"Hiiro, what are you doing?" Lena asked, a genuinely confused expression on her face, "What is all of this about?"  
  
Not wanting to give her a straight answer but not wanting to lie, Hiiro didn't answer at all. He just kept glaring at me, gun raised.  
  
Deciding that SOMEONE should answer, I took the inniative, "I'll tell ya what this's all about, he's tryin' ta kill me again!" I glared at Lena, "And ya know WHY he's tryin' to kill me? 'Cause Tres told 'im to!"  
  
Guess I said the right thing, because that finally got some attention. Zeches' gun lowered a bit and his and Relena's eyes went wide with shock. I could feel Hiiro's glare intensify a bit, so I ducked back behind Hilda. Hey, I never claimed to be brave. Zechs was now glaring at me, too. Great. "Tres? What's he got to do with this?" Then he turned and glared at Hiiro. "Alright, who are you, really?"  
  
Relena was just staring at Hiiro, her eyes slightly wide. Hiiro looked from Zeches to her, then looked down slightly, still not saying anything. He is quite the conversationalist, isn't he?  
  
Sighing, I stepped out from behind Hilda. "Screw this." Fine, they were going to make me do all the dirty work. That's how it ALWAYS is, ya know? I get the bad end of every damn situation. Someone definitly hates me. Maybe it's everyone. Maybe the whole world's out to get me. You know what? I think that's it. I think it's all a big conspiracy to fuck with me. Ha ha, real funny, World. I decided to get it all out really fast, just to get the whole damn thing over with. Let them deal with the consequences, and just let me out of the circle. I was so sick of it all by now. "Look, Tres wants you" I looked at Zeches, "outta his job as comish, so he's tryin' ta frame ya about the whole," I gestured at Hilda, "gypsy... thing. Now that I'm 'ere, I'm gonna take the wrap, and his framin' ya deal won't work. So Tres blackmailed 'im," I pointed at Hiiro "ta kill me and get me outta the way. That way, I'm dead, you go ta jail and he lives 'appily evah aftah." I sighed. "God, this is like a soap opera er somthin'."  
  
Hiiro sighed and put away his gun, but said nothing. In response to the lowering of the gun, I sighed in relief. Zeches just stood there for a minute, taking this all in. After a moment, his head shot up and he shouted at Relena, "You see, I told you he was no good!"  
  
Relena rolled her eyes, "Oh, please don't start this again."  
  
I plopped back into the couch behind me as the two began fighting again for the next twenty or so minutes. Man, those two can argue! Of course, in the end, neither of them won, making the argument completely pointless. After about another hour, the five of us got our stories straight. Zeches found out exactly what Hiiro was being blackmailed over and Relena had to take his gun away quickly before he could kill Hiiro. Another long, boring Pececref Family Argument ensued. Finally, they worked out all of their stupid little life problems: Hiiro agreed not to kill anyone, and Zeches agreed to allow Hiiro and Lena to go out as long as they kept their clothes on at all times. I told you: twisted soap opera.   
  
Okay, the next few days were boring as hell, and I lived them, so trust me, you don't want to hear about them. It was all court proceedings and crap. Long story short (heh, this hasn't really been all the short of a story, has it?), I went and testified that I helped the prisoners escape, and that Zeches was the clueless blonde he looks and didn't know about any of it. Er, not in so many words, but you get the picture. But a funny thing happened, though: Treize and Une never showed up for the trial at all. In fact, they completely vanished... not that anybody really misses them or anything. I was found guilty and tossed back into jail. I don't know how long I would've stayed in there, but Zeches bailed me out pretty quickly. I guess the guy's not all bad. Not only that, but he gave me a job! Cool, huh? I've got to go get trained, then I become a police officer. While it's not the best job I could think of, it's a hell of a lot better than no job at all. But you know what the best thing out of all of this is? I'm going to a police academy in Florida. Florida! Not only do I get out of New York and go half a country away from all of the gypsies and psychos, but I get to go to a beach!  
  
Maybe life's not as bad as I make it.  
  
Er, knock on wood.  
  
  
That's about all I have to tell, except for a bit of what happened earlier today. I was in a pretty big rush to get out of the damn city, but I figured it was only right to say good-bye to the guy who got me the job. I mean, I only saved Zeches' career and his future family's lives, but I still have to thank HIM. Anyway, I went to the station to say "thanks and so long" to Mr. Comish, when who did I meet there but Hilda. I swear, that damn girl is everywhere, just like, following me, or something.   
  
"So, you're going?" She asked a bit hesitantly (as if she didn't see my coat or the suitcase in my hand).  
  
"Yeah. I need a break. Gotta get outta the city for a while." She nodded, but didn't say anything. After a minute, she looked up at me exclamation, "Oh, I almost fergot! I hadda ask ya a question." She waited expectantly. "When ya told me ya didn't see anythin' in the damn pot, that was a lie, too, wasn't it?" I glared at her suspiciously.  
  
She shrugged and looked off at the wall behind me, "I don't know what you're talking about, Dust."  
  
Dropping my glare, but still questing her I asked, "Ya know when 'n where I'm gonna die, don't you. Why won't ya tell me?"  
  
Her eyes dropped back to mine and she smiled smartly. "Because unlike you, Dustyn, I try not to make the same mistake twice." I glared at her for a moment, and her smile gradually changed until it was genuine. Stepping forward, she hugged me lightly, and whispered, "Sometimes, it's just better not to know." Hilda stepped back, and just stared at me for a minute, then smiled sadly and said, "Have a nice trip."  
  
"Uh, thanks..." I muttered as she walked away. "I think..." After she left, I walked into Milliard's office and got my ticket. You don't know how good it felt to have that thing in my hand... a ticket to freedom from insanity. I got out of the station pretty quickly, grabbing a cab with some cash Milliard gave me.  
  
I felt like I was leaving it all behind, putting the past behind me. I'd escaped death, gave Fate the finger, and now I had a whole life in front of me. But, of course, the past just refused to stayed buried. The whole way onto the plane, I kept seeing people I knew. I mean, not really, but I imagined seeing them. I headed into the airport, turned in my ticket, then decided to grab a snack at one of those mini-McDonalds they have in every airport in the world. So I waited in the line, and when the girl turned around and said, "May I take your order?" I could've sworn it was Hilda asking.   
  
Totally random occurrence, scared the shit out of me. I blinked a few times then asked stupidly, "Beg ya pardon?" She repeated her memorized phrase, and I saw it was just some random teenager and a complete stranger. Hesitantly, I ordered my fries and a soda and got out of there.  
  
Freaky Occurrence Number 2: I went to the men's room and washed my hands. Those fries are good, but damn greasy. When I looked up in the mirror, though, I saw something in the reflection shine, like light hitting metal. When I focused on that section of the mirror, I saw Hiiro standing behind me, a gun raised and aimed at my back. I jumped up straight and turned around, but there was no one there. The room was completely empty. Understandably, I ran out of there pretty damn fast.  
  
Of course, I wasn't done freaking out yet. Nope. When I was sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic seats waiting for my row number to be called for boarding, another hallucination hit me: literally. I was reading a newspaper I had picked up when something hit the back of my head. I turned around and saw an apple on the ground. Assuming that's what hit me (I felt an apple-shaped bruise forming on the back of my head), I glared behind me, looking for the perpetrator. When I saw, her, though, my jaw dropped and my heart sped up. A few feet away from me stood Marie, that damn little redhead who had pretty good aim for a blind kid. Her dead-looking eyes were wide and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights for a second. A moment later, the expression dropped, and she grinned at me. I tell you, I never thought a little kid could look so evil. Just then, the woman behind the desk called my row for boarding; I turned instinctively, and stood up. When I turned back, the little girl was gone. I assumed she had run off or something. Muttering, I looked down for apple she had thrown, you know, to see if some death-threat were attached to it or something, but it, too was gone. Sure, someone could've picked it up, but I doubt anyone did. Something tells me I just imagined the whole thing. It wouldn't surprise me.  
  
Well, the plane ride's almost over now, and nothing fucked up has happened. I don't think it's going to, though. Call me psychic, but I think everything's going to go okay. Like I said before, everything's finally starting to go all right. I'm going to go to this beachy place, take a few lessons, get a nice easy job as a cop, and relax for a few years. I think I deserve it. Yeah, I DO deserve it. And it's about damn time something went the way it's supposed to for me. I beat fate, this is my reward now: a long, happy life devoid of Killer Warriors and Power-hungry Psychos, Evil Gypsies and Curses that Backfire. Just plan, and simple peace.   
  
Peace.   
  
I could get used to that. 


	10. Epilogue: L2 Colony

A/N  
-Thank you to those who have read this fic, even more to those who have reviewed, and the most to those few who kept reading straight through my horrid writer's blocks and huge bouts of laziness. It means more to me than you could possibly realize.  
-Questions? E-mail me at Kacfrog711@cs.com, or review with your e-mail address. Thank you!   
  
  
Warnings:   
Deja-vu.  
  
  
Warnings:   
Deja-vu.  
  
(Chapter 10) Epilogue: L2 Colony  
  
"Alone and bored on a 30th century night,  
will I see you on The Price Is Right?"  
  
It's all been done...  
It's all been done before."  
  
"It's All Been Done"  
- Bare Naked Ladies  
  
  
This week just plain sucked. It's like the whole week was cursed or something. And as the week went on, it just seemed to get worse. Something about that one day, though... I just knew it would be bad. Call it supernatural if you believe in that shit, but I just KNEW it. Sunday: the last day of the week, or the first day of it, depending which end you look at it. Either way, it's supposed to be bad; but what happened that day this week wasn't bad, it was just ridiculous! And through it all, I had the worst sense of deja-vu...  
  
I stole some jewelry from this woman. I should've known that wasn't a good idea, just by the way she looked. I've been a thief all my life! You'd think I'd know this sort of stuff by now. Well, I guess I just wasn't thinking 'cause I stole a few golden hoop bracelets off her anyway. It was the perfect thing to steal, really; I'm not an idiot: pilfering wallets means carrying someone else's ID tag, and it's way too easy to track those things. Give me pure gold, you can sell it anywhere. It was a good idea... or so I thought at the time.  
  
It's still a blur about what actually happened, though you'd think that by now I'd know. Well, one minute I was running like heck out of that woman's grasp, and the next thing you know I ran into this tall guy (who was also dressed oddly). Just my luck: a crowd of hundreds, and I run into her husband. Well, this blonde guy saw the bracelets in my hand and lifted me up by my dirty black shirt into the air until my feet were literally off the ground.  
  
His icy blue eyes stared into me and I knew I was as good as dead. I mean, it was odd: I knew this particular guy wouldn't kill me (don't ask HOW I knew, but I just knew it) but those frozen blue eyes made me sick to my stomach, like I was going to die soon. You have no idea what I meant, do you? Well, at least ONE of us knows what I'm talking about, so get off my case. Anyway, just then, the woman I stole the bracelets from walked over and joined in the "Stare at the Thief" game. Man, they both looked really mad... They spoke to each other in some weird language, which wasn't uncommon for any colony, but didn't help my situation, either.  
  
Just as I was sure the tall guy was about to strangle me, a girl about my age came over and started talking to them in the odd language. She had short dark hair and deep blue eyes. Life and energy just radiated off her as she spoke fluently in the quick language. She cast a glance over at me with a small, reassuring smile, and continued talking. Judging from the sound of the language, it wasn't too common around here, and the fact that all three of them just -happened- to speak it, made me guess she was their daughter. ... well, that and the little fact that she looked almost -exactly- like the woman I had robbed (except that the older woman had bright violet eyes instead of blue).  
  
The whole family was just... off somehow. They all had this air of danger and mystery that surrounded them... not to mention the strange clothes and language. Heck, even their skin was a few shades darker than mine (at least the two women's skin was), and it's pretty hard to get a tan when the atmosphere's as fucked up as it is, so it had to be genetic. I wondered, as I hung there from the iron grip of the blonde man, just where their ancestors had come from that these three looked and spoke so differently. Even so, some other part of me said that I didn't really want to know.  
  
After a few minutes of the girl's talking, the woman and man exchanged glances, then nodded. I was very relieved to feel the asphalt beneath my black sneakers once again as I was set, none too gently, back on the ground. Before I had the chance to run off, or even say anything, the young girl with the dark blue eyes grabbed my arm. I swear I heard her say, "Come with me." but it was so heavily accented that I could've been wrong. Either way, she pulled me along behind her towards wherever she was heading.   
  
Rather than risk the wrath of her parents, I followed the girl through the massive crowds to the outskirts of the city, just inside the walls. There she pulled me into a tent and sat down on a few blankets. She gestured for me to sit as well, so I did. Like I said, better to listen to her than face the adults. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the girl just staring at me, before I spoke.  
  
"Uh, thanks, I guess." I said grinning at her. The girl nodded and smiled, just sitting there staring at me. It was weird. I was starting to think that she didn't speak English at all... I looked around the small tent to find some answers, but found only the tent's walls and a few blankets and the like scattered across the cool black ground. Huh. "So... what's your name?"  
  
The girl smiled slightly mischievously before replying, "Hilde."  
  
"Hilde. Hi, nice to meet you. I'm..."  
  
"Duo Maxwell, right?"  
  
I laughed but nodded, "Am I that famous?" Despite my oh-so-cool exterior, I was curious and just a little scared. ....that was just weird. I didn't think there were any bounties on my head at the time, so how did this girl know my name? And who was she? So many questions rattled through my mind, I barely knew where to begin. Before I could get out the first words of my next question, though, she spoke again, nodding.  
  
"Yes, they are my parents. I told them that there was no point in killing you since it'd just cause suspicion. I also said that you'd be good practice for me."  
  
I had to raise my eyebrow at that, slightly fearing what she would tell me, I asked, "practice for you? What am I, a lab rat?"  
  
She laughed lightly, her head was bent down slightly to hide any real expression. Her glimmering blue eyes staring up at me as she responded, "We're fortunetellers. My ancestors were Roma, and we just like following the tradition." She smiled, "And knowing a dead language helps when you don't want people to hear what you're talking about."  
  
I nodded, taking this in. "I bet it does." Then began to ask, "So what..."  
  
"My mother tells fortunes for a living, and she's teaching me how to so that I can help raise more money. I'm getting better, but I still need more practice."  
  
I laughed, "Fortune telling? You mean you guys are con-artists?"  
  
She rolled her eyes at that remark and rested her elbows on her knees. She sighed slightly, still smiling, answered, "you -would- say that," and rested her cheeks on her hands. "Everyone does. But it's not fake. We're the real deal." Those glittering eyes never left me. "Trust me about this."  
  
"So, you want to tell my fortune, then?" My violet eyes challenged hers. "That IS why you brought me here." She slowly nodded. I laughed lightly and leaned back onto my arms. "Sure, go ahead. I dare you to."  
  
Shrugging, she sat up and said, "I need something close to you, like a lock of hair."   
  
I glared dangerously and grabbed my braid with both hands protectively. "Oh no, you don't. NO ONE touches the hair."  
  
She laughed, "Okay, okay. Well, clothing would work, too." She smirked, "the hair or the shirt, Duo?"   
  
I smirked. Don't ask how, but I knew this game... so why not play along? "All right, have it your way." And pulled off my shirt, handing it to her.  
  
I don't know why, but I felt like I knew this girl, like she was a close friend or something. Hey, look, I don't go striping for strangers, okay? ...er, normally, anyway. But ever since I stepped into the tent, I got the weirdest feeling of deja-vu, and I felt... oddly safe. I mean, I trusted her. Don't ask me why, 'cause I still don't know. I regret it, even. Okay, she gave me fair warning but... Maybe if I hadn't of trusted her so much, then things wouldn't have went the way they did and I wouldn't have...  
  
The girl blushed slightly, shaking her head and muttering about "didn't think you'd really..." before saying to me, "Jewelry would've worked too, you know."  
  
I shrugged, "Too late now." An afterthought hit me and I asked, "You're not gonna hurt it, are you? I mean, it's the only shirt I've got!"  
  
"I won't." Hilde replied without a second thought, raven bangs fluttering across her shining eyes at the motion. The girl wrapped up my shirt and placed in on the ground next to her, then took a thin flowered cloth from around her waist and put it next to my shirt. After some rummaging through a nearby sack, she placed a small pot and a pitcher on the blanket as well. When her eyes flew back to me, she noticed the silver chain around my neck and the beat-up cross hanging off of it. "Nice necklace." She muttered noncommittally.  
  
I smiled. "Thanks, it's been in my family for ages. My mother said it had something to do with God protecting me or something."   
  
"God, huh?" She asked softly, not meeting my inquisitive glare.  
  
"Yeah, God. You know, 'Our maker of Heaven and Earth...' ...Why do you ask?"  
  
She shrugged, her eyes still not meeting mine, "No reason, really." Hilde placed my shirt on a blanket in front of her. I was confused, but my eyes were glued to her nimble hands as they danced around the objects efficiently. She poured some water out of the pitcher and into the bowl, then offered it to me. "Take a sip." With no room to make witty comments as the bowl was pressed to my lips, I obeyed silently, then continued watching. The girl wrapped my shirt in the cloth, then put them both into the water, which splashed all over the blanket as a result. Once they were soaked, she took a sip.  
  
Now able to make the comment I wanted to, I scoffed, "Hey, you didn't tell me you were going to get it dripping wet. That wasn't part of the deal. Now what'm I going to do? I hope you have a hair dryer or something..."  
  
Ignoring my complaints, Hilde took her soaked scarf out of the bowl and tossed it to the side. The strange girl then stared into the pot. I watched her for a minute. She just sat there staring. Wondering what could possibly be so interesting in there, I leaned over and joined her in looking into the water. I wasn't shocked by what I saw. My eyes met with the pot, my shirt, water, the dark reflection of a pair of deep blue eyes, and the darker reflection my own blue-violet ones. I sat back, sighing, and waited for her to finish. Who knew fortune telling could be this boring? After a few more minutes, the girl frowned and looked up at me. I blinked in confusion. "What? Do I have something on my face? What did you see?" The girl dumped the water unceremoniously out into the ground next to her and handed the dripping wet shirt back to me. I muttered, "Gee, thanks a lot." and began ringing out my shirt.  
  
"Are you sure you want to know, Duo?"  
  
I put on the sopping shirt with a disgusted face. "Hm? Know what?"  
  
"Your future."  
  
I laughed, buttoning the cold, wet, black cloth. "My future, huh? Yeah, sure, why not? It's good to know the future, then I know what to expect." I winked at her, but the girl didn't share my cheer. Her face was serious and deep creases marred the tan skin of her forehead.  
  
"Are you really sure?"   
  
Not quite understanding why she had asked twice, I nodded again, "Yeah, of course. Didn't you hear me agree the first time?" Hilde sighed lightly and looked back up to me.   
  
"You're going to die tonight."  
  
  
The words stopped my breath and I blinked in shock. I must've misheard her or something, that had to be it. Then my insecurities kicked in, and I laughed. "Yeah, I'm going to die every night. That's the life of a colony brat."  
  
She replied solemnly. "I mean it, you're actually going to die tonight."  
  
I shook my head in response, "Not -tonight- tonight, right?"  
  
Her shoulders dropped as if to say, 'you're kidding.' "What other 'tonight' is there?"  
  
I laughed, "Oh, please. You must've read the water wrong or something. You're still practicing right?"  
  
She shook her dark head, "I -did- do it right. Trust me, I know it. And I know what I saw, Duo." Hilde sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."  
  
I sat in silence for one of the few times in my life. No way. She's joking or something. I couldn't die. It's impossible to die at fifteen. I was, like, immortal: the God of Death himself. I don't die, I bring death. Didn't she know that? No, she didn't. That's why. See, if she knew, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. With this reassurance, I said. "Yeah, sure. So where did the 'magic water' tell you I'm supposed to die?"  
  
She looked up from where her eyes had rested on her hands, "Not supposed to. You're -going- to die on Earth."  
  
I laughed in relief. "Now I know you're kidding! Only rich people go to Earth." I smiled comfortingly. "It's all right, Hild. With a little more practice, you'll make a fine con-artist. You almost had me going for a second there..."  
  
Her demeanor remained serious, her eyes remained hard. "I'm not a con-artist."  
  
I muttered, "Well, not a GOOD one..."  
  
And she corrected forcefully, "I'm NOT. Fate has determined that you will die tonight, on Earth, by a warrior's hand." She paused, her strong eyes lowering with regret. "I'm sorry, Duo. I really am. But I don't decide these things."  
  
My mind ran through the possibilities. "Oh, it's a 'warrior's hand' now?" I laughed. "How many 'warriors' do YOU know?"  
  
She shook her dark head, "It's an old expression, it could mean any--"   
  
"You know what?" Ignoring her, I continued solemnly with an edge of sarcasm, "This was fun. Really it was. But I have to be leaving... right now. And get as far away from you as possible. No offense, but I'd just rather pretend I never even met you. So, have a nice day, and a nice life, and good-bye." I stood and began walking away.  
  
"Duo, you can't..."  
  
"You're wrong! I'm -not- going to die tonight!" I shouted, turning on her. Bad manners, I know: shouting at a girl, and a stranger, no less. But I didn't exactly -care- at the time. And like I said, it felt like I was yelling at someone I knew and, don't laugh, but it felt right yelling at her; like, it felt like I'd yelled at her hundreds of times, so what did one more matter? It didn't really matter either way, because Hilde wasn't even moved by my screaming. Maybe she felt like she knew me, too.  
  
"You can't run from Fate, Duo."  
  
"Oh, so you're Fate now, too?" I barked back sarcastically.  
  
"I didn't say--"  
  
I turned my back on her once more, prepared to leave. "Well then, Fate, watch me run."  
  
As I was about to storm out victorious and all manly, she called out, "Duo, wait!" and I was forced to stop. My back still turned to her, I waited to hear what she said. "Look, I know you intend on fighting your destiny. And I can't stop you, I wish I could, but I know can't. You're too damn stubborn." I glanced back over my shoulder, but before I could get in a snide remark, she continued, "However," She held up a finger, "I don't want you making the same mistake repeatedly..." She paused, her voice dropping off, "...again." The girl sighed. Taking her pause as a sign, I reluctantly sat back down. My nerves were on end, though. Why, I don't know. Something, something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Something was going bad. I had to get out of this tent before... before what? I just had this gnawing feeling in my gut that I had to leave and fast.  
  
"Do you believe in past lives?" I gave her a, 'what do you think?' look. "Well, you should. Fate can't be changed. Even if you can alter it a little, it'll still snap back and kick you in the ass, and you'll be right back where you started, only with a sore ass." I gave her a skeptical look. "Trust me on this, Duo! This life, or the next, you're still going to die on this day." Again, before I could argue (I was getting pretty pissed at her continuously cutting me off and talking like she knew -for a fact- what my future was when she couldn't possibly), she continued, "Everything you've done in your life has been done before and will be done again." She sighed. "I don't know how I can make you understand this, though, and I'm running out of ideas."  
  
"Prove it."  
  
Her head shot up, and she gaped at me. "No way, Duo, not this time. You don't kn--"  
  
"C'mon." I egged her on, "You think you're all high and mighty, 'I know something you don't.' Well, let me see it for myself, you're so sure." I didn't quite understand what I was asking for, but it sounded like she would let me relive my life over again, or something like that. Whatever it was, it sounded interesting. And I never turn down a challenge.  
  
Hilde shook her head, then closed her eyes. After sighing, she smiled. "It gets harder every time, you know that, Dust?"  
  
I laughed, ignoring the odd nickname she had given me. "Now how would I know if you haven't even let me try yet? If it gets harder, then I'll get tougher." Before she could clarify her true meaning, I continued, "And I only need one shot."  
  
"You can't change Fate." She paused, "In the future, I can make you aware of your past lives. That will prove it." She muttered, "For a while."  
  
My heart was beating faster. ...I don't know why I was believing it.. but I did. "Yes. Prove it. Try. And I'll prove to you that I'm not going to die yet."  
  
She smiled falsely and nodded. Touching the cross around my neck, her fingers cold as they pressed the wet fabric of my shirt against my chest, Hilde muttered some foreign words and closed her cyan eyes. When she opened them again, she said in a soft monotone, "From this life onto the next, you'll remember this day. I hope you realize the consequences, the chain of events you've just started." Her voice grew in intensity and her fingers began pushing harder on my cross until I was sure there was going to be a deep red mark. "Don't seek me out again, Duo, I don't want a part of it anymore. I'm sick of it. Sick of it!"Her voice dropped off, and she shook her head, "And I'm tired. I give up." Then her head shot up, and she shouted. "Damn the game! Damn it all! I forfeit!"  
  
I only heard her up to the word, "consequences" before my mind began ticking. Damn. There always had to be something, didn't there? All my life as a thief and I -still- didn't know that you can't get anything without a price. "Consequences?" I stuttered out.  
  
Ignoring me, she said hurriedly, "Shut up and listen!" She grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her. "Listen!" She paused, her midnight blue eyes burning into mine with a bright intensity. "The game's over. I - give - up. Don't come back, Duo. Never come back to this tent, do you understand me? Remember not to come back here, ever. Remember it!"  
  
I turned quickly as the flaps to the tent opened and revealed her father. Hilde nodded to him and the man grabbed me by my collar. "Hilde! What're you doing?! Stop him!"   
  
She shook her head. Looking at the ground, she sighed, muttering. When her intense eyes locked with my shocked ones, she spoke softly.   
  
"I'll see you next time, Duo."  
  
  
The End.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hilde!" 


End file.
